#and by forever i mean ill give up and then leave it to rot in my art folder

[elliebell77]

you caught him with his glasses off

[felidacy]

Rambles and small ideas for a Batfamily Bloodborne AU

(It is not that cohesive I am sorry and I was forced to make some lore changes. Especially with how it begins. Don't beat me up about it.)

Gotham gets enveloped by a dark shroud that covers the whole city and makes it near imperishable, let alone letting people pass through. The city is forever shrouded in a dark loom with merely a everlasting full moon shining upon them. With no sun and the isolation, it soon takes a tool on the people. They grow sickly and depressed, if not that they become near deranged and highly irritable. Crime rates in the already vicious city steadily increase.

There is a sudden shift then - for the worse. A blood moon occurs and people begin to change. Their bodies twist, grow and even rot away. Meanwhile their humanity seems to decrease. A few attempt to research the phenomenon and hold them captive in facilities like Arkham Asylum or Blackgate Prison, however those are halted when the victims fully cease being humans and transform into eldritch monsters that lash out when the old blood gets overused by the Healing Church. A mass outbreak occurs and the monsters roam the city from then on.

Tim Drake is still in the position of the CEO Wayne Enterprise after the mysterious disappearance of the Gotham Prince (Bruce Wayne) and openly funding doctors and scholars in his tower to research their Gotham phenomenon and the monsters. He takes over the Role of Provost Willem and does not shy away from finding out the truth by any means necessary. He isolates himself because of his hunger for knowledge and shuts people out.

Researchers of his discover the tombs/Labyrinth and the usage of the old blood when coming across Ebrietas, some desperately trying to change his opinion and use blood healing to attain a new beginning. Tim is forced into a position where he needs to give up on his constant desire of evolution and progress, which goes against his nature, for the sake of the people and instead how far he can go sacrificing himself in order to attain knowledge that makes him look beyond the "now". His good-hearted start for the peace of humans turns into a obsession to achieve something which is beyond the capability of a mere human.

Damian has been put in a dire position, a child that hears and dreams of the voices of those beyond that nobody else can comprehend. With his artistic skills he puts down the words after transcribing them, he holds the Role of Runesmith Caryll. He desperately attempts to hold on to sanity as he hides himself away from all prying eyes despite the praise of those around him. He only ever hears the words of the Great Ones now.

Two people Tim trusted most "betrayed" him, Tam and Cass that take on the Role of Laurence as his trusted students that end up leaving him. Cass knew that Stephanie must secretly be alive and after having grown immensely close to her not-sister-not-lover, she could not live with herself if she didn't rescue one she loved. She had lost too many already and followed Tam, along with others. Tam had noble intentions much like Cass, although Tam held more resentment for Tim. Her father was affected by a terrible illness that was since then called the Ashen Blood and even after dozens of years where he was loyal to the Wayne family he did not wish to use the old blood to heal him. He actively even discouraged her. Tam gave her goodbyes one day to never see Tim again and began the Healing Church. To her disappointment Dr. Leslie Thompkins was not one of those that followed after them and when the blood failed to heal her father, instead actively killing him, it were Tim and Leslie that got blamed. Since then Tam began desiring evolving into something greater through the use of the blood in order to bring him back. While Cass worked as a blood minister (later on white Church hunter), Tam focused later on at the work of seeking contact with the Great Ones and became the leading figure of the Choir.

Leslie Thompkins suffers a cruel fate. Her loyalty to save the people and towards Tim cost her greatly and when Tim gets the epiphany that more eyes are needed to understand the Great Ones and evolve, she is one of those that get affected and turn into one of the many hundred eyed monsters roaming the tower and trapping Tim there.

The Healing Church grows in power as their influence in Gotham rises because of their special infected blood that heals those in dire need should they come to them. Gotham citizen began to practically worship the Healing Church when gods they previously believed them did not act and show mercy, others turned away out of fear and that soon enough began to rule the city. The Healing Church becomes a belief, a bloody beacon of hope in their endless night...a cult.

When the sickness of the Ashen Blood spreads the people falsely believe in The Healing Church and that they will save them. Instead the bridges connecting the lands to each other get torn down when they least expect it and watch on as the other half gets overrun by beasts and the ravaging sickness alike. To make sure nobody ever passes through the remains get bordered up. Tim remains on the other half in his Tower overlooking the raging City with a faraway gaze.

They mainly reside in the abandoned underground of Gotham and at the edge of the Bowery, planted right at the opposite site of the Wayne Tower, and gets called the Labyrinth as the layout changed under the influence of the shroud. In time the Healing Church began to change and it split into various branches, the Choir, the school of Mensis and the Hunters of the Workshop that evolve into the Church Hunters.

Jason and Dick had been getting Damian out of old Gotham when the great fire happened and they were unable to return to their left behind sibling. They desired to hid Damian from the Healing Church because of his connection to the Great Ones and there was no better hiding spot than directly under their nose. As such they've become hunters for the Church.

One faithful day Barbara after a long search discovers Damian when he is having one of his seizures, when he dreams of the Great Ones, and she desires to help him. She has been kept in the dark as she had been stuck in the Clocktower until the Healing Church came to free her, which causes her to make unwise decisions by mistakingly trusting Tam and Cass. Unknowing of what occurred with the lack of still functioning technology she was part of the School of Mensis. However upon touching the Great Ones overwhelm her mind and her sanity crumbles. Barbara holds the Role of Micolash. After she becomes aware of herself again she causes the School of Mensis to break away from the Church and just like Tim to find and use an unbiblical cord of the Great Ones.

Stephanie was one of the few that broke through the shroud even when nobody knows why she was permitted through. Trusting her idol and not-lover her ignorance of the state of matter makes her join Barbara. The use of the Cord brings blocked memories back to Stephanie as she recalls that she faked her death because of her pregnancy, just shortly before the shroud fell over Gotham. In fact she does not recall what she had done those months outside of Gotham, neither were the supposed baby was. That is when the Great Ones enlighten her when she connects to Mergo. That child was never born as she went through horrible complications early on and lost it, although there was no body. The child was not of human descent, but of a Great One. Broken apart by this knowledge the Cord pulls Stephanie, Barbara and others of the School into a nightmare state where they remain forever trapped while their physical bodies die. She is the Queen of Yharnam.

Alfred was thought to have died that night when the Great fire happened as he had been away from the Wayne Tower, yet neither with Damian in the Manor. However, as it turns out Alfred had gone to seek out Tam and Cass in hopes to change their minds. When he thought all his wards dead when the land was burning there was no other way than to stay with his last remaining: Cass. And as someone who only ever knew how to work through grief by helping others, he had become the leader of the old Hunters Workshop. He was Gehrmann. Still caught in his own grief the purpose was ripped from him again and he was left alone, a mistake. Like many he called upon the Great Ones and as such started the dream, the start of it all with a promise that needed to be fulfilled.

[trauma-bot]

ouuuu i need the lore... i love selfships so much.... nuze lore please.... if you want..........

YAY YAY YAY. im gonna try so hard to keep this somewhat brief to leave room for any more questions but we'll see how that goes <3

so to preface this E does have a toyhouse bio that you can look at if you're curious! it has a more in-depth look at his personality and whole deal. you can also look at his gallery if you'd like; thats where his references and other artwork for him are stored!

ALRIGHT. RAMBLING UNDER THE CUT

a lot of it is very much to fulfill my weird convoluted fantasy of "what if i lost all hope for a future that i exist in and was convinced that i was going to succumb to the claws of my trauma and rot there forever (basically dooming myself in my own narrative) thus becoming the absolute worst version of myself in what i believe to be my final moments only for someone (two someones in this case) to love and believe in me so much that, despite it all and despite everything that was done to me and that ive done myself, gives me enough hope to undoom myself". i'm normal i swear.

also just generally im a big big sucker for stories about survivors of trauma being there for each other, and in that way i get a lot of comfort from nuze.

SO. NUZE LORE... (once again shout outs to my bestie night for coining their ship name lol)

i guess ill break it down like this, starting with N/E. (alt. ship name being pupE love (coined by another bestie of mine charlie)) E knew N back at the manor and they were close friends then, N was the first person E came out as trans to (by that i mean. N helped E work through his tumultuous robo gender feelings in real time) and N was the only one E really felt comfortable around. (other than tessa! E was also friendly with V back then as well<3)

however, E was also badly traumatized by his time in the manor, and of course Canon Events happen. E, as a disassembly drone, is now much more muted, detached, numbed, and devoted completely to their directive. he's very very very repressed and his specific brand of memory issues as well as the fucked up memory dreams causes him to dissociate and spiral a lot. he also distanced himself a lot from N for reasons even he isn't entirely privy to. something in his hardwiring just told him that N would be safer the less E stayed with him. and N is!!! really saddened by that!!! its normal! E has to learn to not be an emotionless object and actually let himself feel and need and yearn, and N is a big help with that (uzi is as well ofc!!)

i have to skip past a lot of things for the sake of not making this post so many words long but regardless; N/E is really special to me because they are two people who are in a very similar and scary situation and have had to see each other get hurt or even killed in many clone instances in many reset memory files. and its the just. the willingness to love despite knowing what happened to you and even witnessing it at times, to say "this is not all we are" and break free from those iron chains despite knowing how much it'll hurt and how dire everything is. E is so convinced that its all worthless and he couldn't be anything more than what he's used for, while N desperately wants a better life for himself and those he loves, and he's gonna drag E kicking and screaming to hope and healing. <3

NOW. UZIE :3 (alt. ship name is angelfangz)

E is MIA from the squad until like right after episode 3 canonically happens and is found by uzi and N. uzi does not trust E at first not one bit LMFAO. she doesn't hate him but like. her only frame of reference for murder drones besides N is V and J. and also E is like. he's weird and says weird cryptic things and is not exactly the easiest to talk to due to how off-putting and repressed he is. at first E is like "why is there a worker drone. in the spire. and we're all okay with this" but after actually getting more context behind Everything he's curious about her more than anything. he has to be swayed into betraying his initial directive (kill all worker drones. yknow) only because thats like all he knows how to do and would feel aimless without it, but once he is he's loyal to his new directive (help uzi figure out what the hell is going on with this solver business). yeah he treats himself like an object that can only find worth in being ordered around but we dont have time to unpack all of that right now. he unlearns it later i prommy.

uzi is like. spitefully resistant to getting to know E on a deeper lever, but this is uzi "no bonding thing" doorman and she cannot help but care about E and be concerned about his behavior. she will notttt admit that however and stubbornly holds her ground. it isnt until post-episode 4 when E and uzi are fully vulnerable around each other.

uziE is. so so very important to me. uzi has been outcasted and isolated for so much of her life, she's been treated as a weirdo freak monster by her classmates and becomes outwardly prickly and aggressive to cope with how little affection and reassurance she's been given. i know she's internalized it to mean there is something wrong with her that everyone else can see, and its only a matter of time before those who actually care for her see it too and leave her. and i know that the events of episode 4 confirmed it in her mind, that she is a freak monster and everyone was right to avoid and hate her, even though she never asked for any of this. thats a very familar feeling to me- and by extension E. E recognizes the feeling of being made into a monster against your will, of fearing and being unable to trust yourself, and of feeling like its best for everyone's safety to hide away. E and uzi find solace and comfort in each other for that. they dont see each other as broken irredeemable monsters, so maybe they aren't.

im stopping here because holy shit this got long but THERES A LOT MORE LOLL. tldr nuze altogether is very very important to me and i could talk about them forever and ever. they love each other all so much and they grow and heal and forgive and aaaaughhhgh<3 im normal.

[nerves-nebula]

"I might not be in a better place but ill be gone and that's good enough"

Oh.

Like ok My buddy my friend dearest homie whom I've followed for a long time now, I need to let you know that u single handedly just ripped off several curtains off and forced my own wounds and rot to acknowledge itself. You're someone I've admired and looked up 4 a while now. You were never scared to say what was on your mind even if it was silly or uncomfortable. Maybe if I wasn't such a massive coward hiding behind the anon button id do something more than a thanks like this.

I just wanted to let you know that u matter, if not to the universe or whatever perceives us then at least to me (and I mean that in like a Benevolent Eldritch way like the Minecraft end poem or that one warm squishy YouTube comment under the eldertubbies vid with mother void)

Maybe if things weren't as they are right now, with us as forever strangers and distance keeping everything in between you could join us. Me and my merry band of lost things(<-my friends&sibs[they're silly]) Hop in our van and just fucking LEAVE. Just Ditch everything and hide in the woods and make a little village out of it. Itd probably be cold, and dirty and tiring but yk

There's not really a point I'm trying to make here. There's not much I can give to make anything feel better.

But I care. I do.

And I'm so sorry for everything that's been done, for the things that will happen and for not being able to be more human thru these screens.

I'd wrap u up in a blanket and give you soup if I could but all we have in common are sky and stars. So think of soup everytime u see them :))

I might have read that post of urs wrong itslike fucking 3:30am here and im sleep deprived af. If I did my bad just disregard this completely. If not then I hope both sides of ur pillow are cold when you sleep and u get 2 remember again why the sun is loved and why it loves back today :)

Ps I fucking love ur work very scrumptious and heart dropping it's amazing. U go homie ur on fire!!

Your time zone isn’t too far off mine, was like 4 AM when I posted that. I haven’t seen many stars in years. I know the sky is full of them but I don’t recall ever being far enough away from light that I could see it.

Idk what some of the stuff you said here means (specifically the squishy YouTube comment) but that’s aight its the VIBE and EMOTION that counts (of which you have plenty)

I’m so tired man

[aregularhuman]

idk, something about House never really changing through the series. even when he did rehab n got sober, life was still shitty- he was still in pain and dealing with interpersonal issues and the repercussions of his childhood. something about how maybe the shittiness of life/mental illness can’t really be overcome, but dealt with, and how exhausting dealing can be, how easy it is to slip back to old habits. things don’t change, they move on. some people stay the same (Wilson), and some change and get sick of you (Cuddy), all because you’re unable to change. people don’t change, right? only seasons do- something about middle age can be so profound or so deeply sad. the first episode is everybody lies and the last is everybody dies- the same but more sad- it’s been a progressive journey downhill that everyone could see, but felt helpless to do anything about.

the way Wilson tried to change too! but just as he had three failed marriages at the start, he only had failed relationships throughout the show. he tried to break up with house, but he kept coming back to this codependent nightmare of a friendship. they’re doomed to be together in some way. are they simply too old and their neuronal pathways too set for them to change or are we all pathetically forever influenced by our traumatic childhoods and past experiences? are we pre-determined by our own trauma to fail? (me thinking about all those studies about the effects of child n adolescent anxiety on adult health outcomes)

and the way that kindest thing house did for anyone was letting thirteen go, releasing her from the rot around him that foreman and chase got sucked into- they both became like him in their own awful ways. the way she chose him to let her go from this life because of his emotional repression and the comfort it provided her and wilson at times. the way it can be so hard to even try to change when everyone, including yourself, have this idea of who you are and should be- what happened when house tried to leave the hospital to stick to his sobriety? how many jokes were made by the team that they preferred him on Vicodin? the distrust he faced from cuddy and Wilson about his sobriety? why bother changing if no one likes it? if no one keeps their word (Wilson making him move out)? and even Wilson’s cancer journey was so painfully real and them, the same they always were- house selfish and Wilson’s emotions not properly cared for? but could it have been another way? when I first got spoilered about houses faux suicide I thought it was gonna be entirely for Wilson bc I didn’t know about the jail thing, but when I watched it it made me so sad because it wasn’t the selfless meaningful act I was hoping for, but just them and their messy dynamics…. house giving up the one thing that gave his life meaning to stay with the one person that stuck with him- did he truly change, or is this yet another impulse decision the ocean of life will support him out of?

[faunsoda]

sbi ib au w wilbur as mary is a concept i cannot stop thinking abt, like i haven’t touched ib in years and i was more into smaller dynamics in sbi than sbi as a whole, but it makes me so insane. you’re a genius and i adore that au concept. techno as gary is also so much fun, i rlly liked the whole thing. also the art was SO nice, your style is very neat. if you have any more thoughts abt the au as a whole i’d love to hear them, but if not, just know i love the concept so much

WOOO i hear u, my favorite dynamics within sbi are crimeboys and bedrock bros (it really shows in this au) because i am a huge sucker for sibling dynamics. the remake for ib came out for switch recently so the childhood hyperfixation reawakened like a beast

i have so many thoughts in my brain let me drop these bad boys. infodump time.

my idea of a first meeting between techno and tommy! rather than having his rose stolen like garrys, its tommy stumbling in on techno getting cornered by one of the lady paintings. techno probably wouldve gotten out just fine eventually, maybe lost a few petals but tommy distracts the painting so he can escape unharmed! then theyre like 🤝 team up time

please ignore the shitty ooc dialogue everywhere ive just been getting ideas jotted down in my free time hehe. i imagine the dynamic between techno and wilbur in this au being pretty tense! techno is IMMEDIATELY suspicious/wary of wilbur & wilbur wants to leave with tommy, taking technos place. techno doesnt wanna be too protective of tommy because a) this is some kid he just met what does he care b) he doesnt really have any reason to be suspicious about wilbur because hes done literally nothing wrong so far hes just off so techno doesnt trust him

also philza as guertena means he doesnt show up like at all BUT i really liked the theory from a few years ago that part of marys dislike for garry stemmed from garry resembling guertena and her feeling like she’d been abandoned since i cant really imagine she can grasp the complete concept and weight of death. so i did have techno resemble philza a bit here (eg. emerald and stubble that i keep forgetting to draw-) which will probably be unmentioned in stuff i draw for this au because again philza wont show up much. so yeah ooh possible idea that wilbur might resent techno for that a little bit or just be like kind of annoyed by it. idk man im just sitting here.

i also did the three main endings! promise of reunion and together forever were kinda quick because i did not have time to properly draw and color them :,] but i found a neat brush and wanted to draw the forgotten portrait painting because ow. in my original drawings of this au tommy didnt have a green bandana but i decided to give him one as a stand in for the hankerchief ib carries! after all this ill probably do some redraws of moments from the game or try to reimagine the toy box since wilbur is notably not a child like mary is!

yeah hey that was probably like way more information about this au than anyone couldve wanted but B] if you have any thoughts about this au that differ from mine or if you just have thoughts in general id love to hear em! my brain is rotting. thanks for coming to my ted talk (and thank you for the ask, i am new to tumblr so this is my first ask yippee!!)

[finely-tuned-line]

RP:

Log 225

FTL: Alright. I have been planning my next project over the course of the last cycle. I've also been replying to everything that I've neglected to during the crisis. I do feel that perhaps I've missed some important events, but I didn't know about any such events before I partially repaired my communication systems, it's not much of a change.

FTL: As for my next project, I plan to attempt to create a beneficial Rot that will take over the role of the micro-organisms that repair the outer structures of Iterators - henceforth I will be calling them SRMOs, short for Structural Repairment Micro-Organisms. Calling them 'micro-organisms' is too vague, and the files I have on them don't give them any one specific name. Even if they did, I have no reason to utilise that name. SRMO it is.

FTL: Metal Rot is a now-uncommon byproduct of making a mistake when experimenting upon the genetics of an SRMO. The process of their creation is the same as any other Rot, and Metal Rot often ends up being an Expanding Rot. The reason that it becomes its own category (though Metal Rots can still fit into any of the sub-groups of general Rot) is due to its nature of being microscopic in starting stages, and therefore incredibly difficult to detect, as well as the fact that it can only consume the metal that the SRMO it was created from was capable of repairing.

FTL: SRMOs are actually very interesting themselves. From what I understand, they consume the metal, divide it into half, use up a bit as a source for energy, and then replace the metal that they previously consumed with double the coverage of the material that was previously there. Of course, this does mean that every single time this process happens, the metal gets thinner. SRMOs were never meant to be the primary repair mechanism, they were always just a backup for the meantime between maintenances. But with the Ancients now gone, they have indeed become the primary outer repair system for any Iterator that has them.

FTL: They were never sustainable. Just another example of the Ancients' lack of foresight. Truly, it astounds me every single time that I find a lapse of judgement like this on their part. I hold no true ill will towards Ancients, truth to be told, I hold no stance on them at all. I just do not understand how it's even possible to mess up so many times, and never do anything about it, simply leaving forever.

FTL: My project that I will now be embarking upon consists of my attempting to create a Metal Rot that has the exact same functions as an SRMO, except more efficient and sustainable. And, of course, not fatal or even detrimental at all to the structure that it is repairing. Sounds absurd, a beneficial Rot, does it not?

FTL: If such a modified Metal Rot is allowed to spread over the surface of an Iterator, then it could fulfill the same purpose as an SRMO while being, as previously mentioned, more efficient and sustainable. Efficient due to its nature of already being everywhere as well as being much quicker at the task, capable of redistributing resources across the surface instead of keeping faults concentrated in one place. That plays into the sustainability, which is also comprised of the fact that it'd ideally be able to gather nutrients from sources other than what it is repairing. Potentially the air? Unlikely that it'd ever be capable of gathering nutrients from biotic things, due to the fact that it is a Rot made from a creature that does not consume living things.

FTL: Most Rots are capable of consuming both biotic and abiotic materials, though most tend to stick to organisms as those contain more energy that it can utilise for itself. A Rot that can only consume one of the two would be rather interesting. Such a thing wouldn't typically happen, as it is extremely detrimental to it, especially so on the side of not being able to absorb biotics.

FTL: Of course, this solution too is unsustainable. While it would make structures last for longer than SRMOs would, the base mechanic of redistributing ever-thinning resources remains. But that is merely yet another fault of how Iterators were created in the first place; we are unsustainable in nature.

FTL: If I do have what I perceive as success in creating such a Rot, then I only have one option. That being to, of course, test it on myself. I do not know what I will do with it if it is successful, as I am doing this out of sheer curiousity, as is part of the motivation for many things I do. If my suspicions about me being successful are proven wrong upon my testing of the results, well. Same rules apply as always.

FTL: If I fail and succumb, it merely my fault, and those are the consequences that I must face.

FTL: It's nice to have a proper project once more. Engineering Rot will be an interesting endeavour.

[thoughts-and-all-that]

i feel like they all hate me that they know what ive done and they hate me for it that theyre judging me for it that theyre going to hate me forever i dont know whats wrong with me i dont know why im like this why i cant change or get better or stop being stupid and horrible its just rhat they wont SHUT UP and leave me alone all i want is to be left alone im sick of everyone why cant everyone just be what i want or just leave me alone forever im suffering forever and always and its all everyone elses fault but its also my fault BUT is it really my fault when i cant control myy mind and feelings they just never stop ive done so much ive tried so fucking hard to get better yet im still stuck in this shitty house surrounded by people that dont even understand me and i have no real friends and i dont get to go anywhere and we are so fucking broke anyway and im sick of all of this i just want to start over again but its not as easy as people make it sound when im STILL ME and we are broke so its not like i can just pack up and drive away cause i cant even drive and fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck I JUST WANT EVERYTHING TO SHUT THE FUCK UP and i dont take back what i said earlier that i hate that person cause all theyve done is cause me stress and be a judgy fucking bitch but whatever i dont care cause theyll be gone soon who fucking cares theyre gonna move out and finally our basement will be empty of people that i feel like theyre listening to everything even though i know the sound is muffled BUT what if it isnt and they hear ALL OF IT and i know im being paranojd and i know im being violent and horrible and mean and judgy and im being everything i cant fucking stand but i dont know how to change all alone im always alone i just want some fucking therapy or some shit like that i just want someone to reach out to me with their hand fully open asking for me to open up and give them everything i just want to spill out of this cursed box thats called a brain i just want to be free i just want to be happy i just want to be left alone to make art and play games and have friends and not have shitty obligations that dont do anything for anyone anyway and im sick of this shitty mentally ill little brain that does nothing for me except for cause me pain but whatever i just have to live with it

I CANT TAKE BACK WHAT IVE DONE AND THATS FUCKING STUPID BUT WHATEVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I DONT!!!!!!!! CARE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I DONT CARE ABOUT EVERYONE WHO HATES ME OR LEFT ME BEHIND OR WHOEVER JUST NEVER FUCKING CARED ABOUT ME AT ALL!!!!!!!! IT TOTALLY DOESNT FUCKING HURT!!!!!!!!!!! IM NOT SORRY AT ALL THAT SOMETHINGS WRONG WITH ME AND I DONT KNOW WHAT IT IS OR WHY OR HOW TO STOP IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHATEVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

i just want to be left alone. i just want to be happy. i just want to be free. i dont have any of that. i cant have any of that. too many people wont just leave me alone. nothing makes me happy anymore except for in small doses that are easily interrupted. i cant drive, i dont have money, i dont have anyone to run off into the world with that knows me and loves me completely despite how messed up i can be. my life is my hell and i am my own satan and yet im a human who was sent to hell at the same time

whatever. nothing even makes sense and i guess im not as far along in recovery as i thought. maybe i should submit myself to a hospital soon like i keep saying i will but never doing. im just scared that its going to be as bad as people always say those places are but ive also heard they can be so helpful and i just dont know what to believe

i wont do anything in the end. ill just sit in this bedroom and rot away probably. whatever. just leave me alone.

[autisticandroids]

Fic about Destiel dysfunction told through the framing device of Jack's future therapy sessions.

OH BOY. OH I DON'T WANNA WRITE THIS BECAUSE IT SOUNDS HARD BUT I WANNA READ IT SOOOOOOOO BAD.

wait. scratch that. i actually do have a fic that i've tossed around writing (but probably won't actually write) that's like. a sequel to "i fold in half so easily." like i won't write it because i like where that fic leaves off and i don't want to fix it in some cheap way. like i LIKE where that fic leaves off, and fixing it for any of them would cheapen it. let them all rot in self-imposed hells forever.

HOWEVER. hypothetically. if i were to do the long, grueling work of fixing at least some of the characters in that fic. well. i've thought about it.

- first off. jack has to come back. like you can't actually fix anything about i fold in half so easily if jack doesn't come back. because nothing short of jack's return would convince cas to change anything, and nothing short of making amends to jack would convince cas to like. value himself. anyway. jack comes back. he just sort of materializes near the site of kelly's cabin. he doesn't remember the last couple years because he has a sam-in-season-six style trauma wall in his head.

- anyway. jack materializes, and he just. calls cas. on a payphone. and cas is like. okay jack. stay right there. don't leave. don't call sam or dean. i'm coming to get you. and cas just. doesn't say a word to sam or dean. makes sure they don't see him leave. hops in his truck. and drives 25 hours straight to the west coast.

- he finds jack just sitting under a tree, waiting, exactly where he said he'd be. and so they hug. and cas cries. and he gets jack in the truck. they drive, and they don't talk. or cas doesn't. jack asks a fine questions, to which cas give noncommittal, monosyllabic answers. until finally jack just says i'm hungry, and cas pulls off the highway, and they go to a diner. (the exact kind of diner the winchesters would pick.)

- when the food comes, cas eats too. he doesn't usually do that, and jack is like, are you human, now? and cas is like no. what? and jack is like. you're eating. and cas is like oh. yes. i am. i don't have to do that. so he puts down his fork, and he smiles a little at jack. jack feels like this means something significant, but he doesn't know what. he's just happy to finish cas' home fries.

- eventually, jack asks about dean, and cas actually answers. he says "dean isn't our friend anymore, jack." he doesn't elaborate.

- the thing about cas is that he knows that dean has done something bad. he even partly knows what that thing is. and he knows he needs to keep dean away from jack. but he can't really name that, out loud. this is partly because he can't bring himself to speak ill of dean, even now, especially not in front of jack. it's partly because he himself cannot fully grasp the nature of the harm done: he knows that dean is a threat to jack's physical safety, that's something he can wrap his head around. but dean has also harmed cas terribly, in the emotional sense, and he has no idea how to conceptualize that, much less put it into words. furthermore, he is afraid dean might have done something similar to jack, and that terrifies him so much that he can't look at it. and lastly, cas can't bring himself to unpack his own complicity in how dean has hurt jack, especially not in front of jack. so he is rendered speechless. he can't talk about why they're not friends with dean anymore, only that they aren't. cas is extremely capable of thinking about things and is NOT trying very hard not to reconsider anything that's happened in the past five years or so

- anyway. for a few months cas and jack live in a series of cars, driving up and down the coast. cas keeps ditching them and stealing new ones. he also ditches his cellphone. this is all to keep the winchesters from tracking them, because cas is like. intensely paranoid about that. but he doesn't explain this to jack.

- anyway. after like, a few months of this. jack is like. my dad is acting really weird. he's clearly freaked out about something but he won't TALK to me. i think there are?? problems?? apparently you're supposed to work on problems in therapy. so he calls dr. vallens and makes an appointment.

- dr. vallens is like. i am a GRIEF counselor. however. since you saved my life that one time and obviously desperately need my help. and also i see my past self in you. maybe we can do weekly sessions.

- so. cas and jack settle down in wisconsin. and get therapy with dr. vallens. and horrify her with various things about their lives and relationships.

examples:

cas and jack originally getting like family therapy together but cas simply Will Not talk in front of jack so she ends up having to separate them

dr. vallens voice if you want to lessen the negative impact on jack you're going to have to say something negative to him about dean at some point. cas voice but i don't want to ruin his attachment to his father dr. vallens voice you're the one who went no contact with the winchesters. cas voice but. but.

cas confessing to his many crimes and her having to leave the room and hyperventilate

cas explaining that he doesn't really know how money works, and had to throw away his cellphone because it might have a tracking app, but doesn't know how to buy a new one, and doesn't know how to rent an apartment, and mia being like. Hm. well. hm.

dr. vallens: castiel, you're not a child- wait, actually, are you a child in angel terms? cas: angels don't have an equivalent of childhood. we were created at the beginning of time fully as we are and carefully kept at we were created, having our minds pruned of undesirable thoughts to prevent any sort of serious change dr. vallens: .......okay- cas: dean has compared me to a child many times when he was angry. perhaps i am equivalent to a child in human terms? dr. vallens: i don't think that's why he did that

cas telling mia about claire, and incidentally explaining that he's actually piloting a corpse, and mia having to go throw up

cas explaining that angels are in fact real but that they've basically wiped themselves out in civil wars over the last decade or so

eventually they ARE going to have to like. re-encounter the winchesters. because jack wants to see them, and cas can only refuse him for so long. absolutely no idea how that's going to go though.

[persephone-uwu]

Getting banned from a My Hero Server because people were openly defending Endeavour, and victim blaming Toya. It’s extremely fucked up. Saying you want him dead, and he deserves to die, but not Enji because he’s “changing,” and then admitting to being an abuse apologist? Because you like Endeavour?

I hate the argument “it’s just fiction,” because no, it’s not. Abuse isn’t fiction, and how you respond to it, whether fictional or not, is extremely telling of how you react to abuse in general.

“Being a victim doesn’t give you the right to kill your abuser,” not in the real world, no. (It should, but that’s for a different conversation.) For those of us who relate to Toya, it’s comforting to live vicariously through him. He can get justice for himself. He deserves to get justice for himself.

Saying “murder is worse than abuse,” is the most awful thing I’ve ever heard. Honestly.

That’s definitely coming from someone whose never been abused. However, I’m not defending him. Do I think he should be held responsibility for his crimes? Absolutely. But I don’t want to see him rot in prison for life, when he deserves redemption. I think he really relates to Azula, and they have a lot in common, so I love that. They were both trained to be child weapons, and the stress of being the perfect, golden child broke them down. But not even Azula was locked up forever; but it shows how much mental illness can effect you, and your choices. He’s a beautifully written character, and I want to see him get redemption. I understand he needs to pay for his crimes, but he can do that in psychiatric care, while getting help. I don’t think it’s fair that he should be held accountable for his actions, when Endeavour hasn’t been. His crimes are swept under the rug, and his fans, both in the manga and the real world, defend him.

I say this quote on Tumblr a long time ago, and I kept it because it made me really think of Dabi and Shigaraki, so I’m going to post it here: “I too once believed in the ruling power, but when I put my faith in it to protect me, I was betrayed. The people who did this faced no consequences, no trial, and as we speak continue to do harm to others. Your justice is pretty in theory, hero, but it is naive— the real world is messy and cruel, and unfair; and I plan to rectify it.

Too long I have tried other ways to make this system work— it is time to make a change.”

That’s literally what the villains are doing. They’ve been failed by their system, and continue to do so. If the vigilantes feel the need to take justice into their own hands, why can’t the villains?

“Why didn’t Toya just come forward? Get a new family? Run away?”

It’s not that simple. And why should he?? Why wouldn’t he hold his abuser accountable??? Why does he have to leave his family behind? He did find a new family though. People who cared about him, who SAW him.

If you can openly love Endeavour, because you think a 46 year old man deserves redemption because “abuse isn’t as bad as murder,” then you’re part of a much larger problem.

The League wants to “make a better, shining world” as stated by Dabi. In HIS eyes, he’s making the world a better place. You know the saying, right? “You’ll never truly understand a villain, until you understand why they’re the hero in their own mind.” And who says they’re wrong? Isn’t the author showing us that the hero society IS flawed? There is no Right or Wrong side. Have you played My Hero Ones Justice 2? Have you heard Dabi’s dialogue? He mentions meeting Gran Trino in the hospital as a kid, probably because of the intense training by Endeavor. He only says, “God, or whosoever up there, is cruel.” Which means he’s HURTING still because of Endeavor. He’s also insecure, because of his dad saying he wants good enough. He constantly calls himself weak, and at one point, Twice tries to make him feel better by telling him to not put himself down. Endeavor isn’t better, because it’s taken him THIS long, while Touya is still developing; but it’s hard to grow as a person when all you’ve ever known is pain. Shoto said himself that he could’ve grown up to be just like Dabi, if Deku hadn’t given him the “power of friendship” speech. But Touya didn’t have anyone to give him that speech. No one saved him. No one pulled him back from the edge. Endeavor can’t just “forget” what he’s done, wtf. You can’t just forget someone’s abuse, because it’s easier for you. What about Touya’s closure? His justice? He only wants to kill Shoto because of his trauma. Do I condone it? No. But it’s not his fault, he needs help. He’s not beyond redemption. For once, someone needs to help these villains, because no one ever saved them. They need therapy, and to be rehabilitated; not killed or locked away, and forgotten. There’s no sentences in their world, once you’re in jail, you’re in jail. They dump you there and forget about you. The League deserves more than that. They deserves voices who speak out against the abuse, discrimination, and everything else they’ve had to endure. “Villains are just victims whose stories haven’t been told.”

PS: It’s also hard to give a good argument when you have slow mode on.

[wispvial]

HMMM...ok ever since someone sent me an ask about a visual novel, i was thinking about making something about nubbins, but even a very short visual novel would take forever because while i can type bullshit about my babygirl at an alarming rate, it takes decades for me to draw the simplest thing.

anyway. a nubbins visual novel would be fun. i started writing something more like a choose-your-own adventure. how will you survive after picking up some weird guy in your car on a hot summer’s day? there is no romance involved, i am attempting horror. however i realize reading it would not be enjoyable to anyone who doesn’t already like him a bit too much.

not even close to finished but maybe one day...

short excerpt:

You can get a closer look at him now that he’s in your car. Your neck aches a bit as you swivel your head.

>”Skin”

                His tan skin is covered in tightly woven scabs-- a long and flat one on his neck and arm, perhaps from a scrape, acute, oozing ones on his face, likely from picking, and you wince when his dirty fingers scratch their inflamed perimeter. Most striking is the red birthmark on the left side of his face, from a distance resembling an errant, windswept nosebleed. Your eyes follow its delicate curve under his eye as it swells across his cheek and tapers off his face. You wonder how he regards it--if he thinks about it at all.

If you stared harder, you’d notice the tiny beauty marks on his neck and by his eye. But you don’t want to be creepy…

>”Hair”

His hair is glossy and black, a vulture-feather beauty achieved by a sheeny layer of stinking sebum. He’s likely neglected to wash for weeks. The ends of his hair curl playfully upwards, styled by the grease and the wind.

His facial hair struggles to establish itself and his upper lip and chin holds nascent, patchy growth. His veiny arms seem fairly hairless.

>”Clothes”

His mold-green shirt reminds you of a child’s tortured security blanket. It drapes and bunches over his lanky body, and holes give you a peek at his collar bone. His tan pants are shapeless pile of fabric, but his legs are long enough to escape them at the bottom, terminating in a pair of black combat boots.

Around his neck hangs a make-shift pouch--a brown-furred animal, black leather cord tied to its limp dead wrists. A bracelet of vertebrae on a fragile chain dangles from his narrow arm.

>”Hands”

His hands are like an animal of their own, vascular and lively, long fingers like a spider’s limbs. His fingernails are ringed with dirt, and he has a filthy old bandage on his ring finger. Luckily, they are empty. You might want to watch them, lest he take some change or a piece of candy.

>”Move on”

                I mean. Is he your type, or what?

>”Yes”

                There is a crude charm to him. It’s not so bad to have a warm body in your car, to hear him catching his breath next to you.

Though maybe anyone would do. When was the last time you sat this close to anyone?

>”No”

                Yuck. He’s like a mangy dog. Giving him some respite from the sun was just the right thing to do.

Anyway…

He smells terrible.

It is a long neglected bodily odor that has built layers, set in like a stain on a yellowed couch. A musty smell embedded in his skin and hair is topped by sharp, sour notes of stress sweat. It does not help that his legs are spread.

But there is something else in the air that makes you nervous. The unmistakable smell of death.

It could be ill health--it could be a rotting tooth, an uncared-for wound. But the smell seems external, long-dead, emanating from the gray-brown dirt under his nails.

It’d be boring to kick him out this early. You may as well commit to your act of generosity.

But your good Samaritan act, so far, was unacknowledged; he did not greet you or thank you, hasn’t spoken a word since getting in your car. He may be too free-spirited for such pleasantries. His head jerks from side to side, as if searching for something, and keeping your eyes on the road and him makes you dizzy.

Well, better say something, leave a good first impression.

>“Where are you headed?”

>“What’s your name?”

>”What’s in the bag?”

[boldlyvoid]

ain't it fun? | part 4

Summary: reader just needs an NA meeting before they have a meltdown, they end up with the best friend they could ever make.

Warnings: chronic illness, hurt/comfort, drug use**! spencer and reader smoke weed together; talks of relapse and recovery. Also, a case involving child abductions, getting engaged, love confessions

word count: 2.4k

a/n: not sure how long this is going to keep getting but I am enjoying adding to it

P1 P2 P3

Days like today suck.

She can’t get out of bed, she’s so hungry her stomach is swirling and screaming and there’s a pain in her intestines that feels like someone is eating her from the inside out but she can’t move… and she has to pee but her legs hurt and her head is pounding from the light. It’s 6 am according to the alarm clock, Spencer hasn’t left for work yet and she’s already missing him.

She manages to make it to the bathroom, sitting there for too long after because she can’t find the courage to stand back up.

“Why?” She whispers to herself before the tears start.

Covering her face as she cries, she’s still sitting on the toilet with her underwear around her ankles, sobbing as Spencer walks in.

He helps her up without asking, he’s seen too many bad mornings now to ask if she needs help, he just knows she wants to go back to bed, so he fixes her underwear and picks her up.

When he finally lays her down with all her pillows, he lowers the temperature in the room to relax her bones and gets her a ginger ale to help with the nausea from the pain she’s in. It is a regular occurrence for her to wake up and feel like she’s dying, but Spencer was wonderful when dealing with it.

He’s in the kitchen for a while, she’s worried he’s making something for her to eat that she’ll have to lovingly turn away because she can’t do it right now. Her throat is too tight and it hurts to swallow or talk.

She can hear him talking… he’s on the phone with someone.

When he comes back in, he cuddles into her the way he knows she likes. Soothing his hands over her back in a way that helps the pain while also helping her feel like she’s not alone in all of this. He’ll never understand; but he loves her, so a part of him feels it too.

“You called out?” She whispers against his chest.

He nods, his cheek resting on the top of her head as she feels the friction. “I don’t feel good when you don’t feel good.”

“I’m sorry you had to help.”

He’s told her time and time again that he doesn’t mind.

He would kill for her, he’d clean up the mess if she killed someone. He’d even dig the fucking grave if she needed him too… he wasn’t opposed to being there for her no matter what that entailed.

She just hated the fact he had to, he knew her apology came from her hatred of herself and not the fact she felt sorry for him. She loved the help, it made her feel loved until she felt disappointed in herself for needing it.

“Do you want your medicine?”

She smiles finally, “if you mean my secret joint stash— yes, but if you can’t handle being around me like that, then I don’t need it today.”

“I think I’d like to try it,” Spencer whispers. “If you can smoke weed and not relapse then I think I can too?”

“Probably, but if you can’t, I’ll support you however you need me to?” She smiles up at him, he kisses the tip of her nose as she kisses his chin.

Getting high with Spencer is… interesting to say the least. He doesn’t want a full hit, he just wants a taste and so she takes a drag and blows the smoke from her lungs to his. Sharing a part of themselves in a way they never expected before, this is his most vulnerable moment and he was trusting her with it.

The sunshine hits his face in such a perfect way that as they lay side by side, she can watch his pupil devour his iris as he gets high. Their breathing is steady and their fingers are interlocked. They’re content just blinking together, in the sunshine, quiet. In love.

Her body is so calm, and her mind is slow as she takes it all in and he looks so relaxed. He’s not jittery or caffeine-deprived like most mornings; he’s not anxious or stressed or trying to find a way to pretend he’s fine before leaving for work again, only to come home sad.

He’s okay.

She’s okay.

“It's nice,” he whispers, “but it’s not as good as you.”

She smiles, trying not to laugh at how his thoughts are going to be all jumbled for the next few hours. He’s going to be smart yet stupid at the same time and she couldn’t fucking wait to hear all the things he thinks of.

“I know what you mean,” she agrees.

“This is like a tidal wave..." his ramble starts and she is so excited to see where it takes them. "A tsunami that rushes and relieves just as quickly." His eyes are closed as he talks, visualizing his feelings and it makes her giddy.

"You’re like a volcano; there are so many stages before mass destruction, and even then there’s still the ash cloud and the debris and the lava dries like rocks… the destruction is total and the cleanup will be brutal.”

“I’m addicted to you," his eyes are closed as he talks, visualizing his feelings and it makes her giddy. "Drugs are boring and you’re not,” Simplifying his meaning as his eyes open again.

“I love you,” he says with the same certainty as the first time.

“I love you, too, Spencer,” she didn’t think they’d go down this path when she was blowing into his mouth, she expected him to panic or get horny.

“I don’t think I’ve ever really told you how much.”

He shakes his head lightly, “I wouldn’t be opposed to knowing.”

If she thinks it over, she’ll abandon ship before she can tell him, so she just jumps into it.

“I was a little scared to ask you to help me lock my door that first day because I thought you’d think I was just some junky who couldn’t get their shit together. But the second you asked if I had a local group and you helped me; that was the moment I knew I wanted you in my life for forever.”

He smiles, silent so she can keep going. He’ll take his turn when she’s really done.

“And then when we got to talking it was like I knew you already. Like I had your memories in my mind and as you told me things I was like well duh! Yeah, that’s my Spencer! I don’t know how it happened so fast. One minute you’re a stranger and the next you’re the only person I ever want to see for the rest of my entire fucking life,” it’s more passionate than she expected as she rambles on.

“I can’t get married on paper without losing my disability, but I don’t give a fuck about a piece of paper or someone officially giving us that title one day, I’m content just staying in this bed with you for the rest of time and never moving again.”

He looks like he’s about to explode with love as he presses his lips together in the softest smile. He can’t keep quiet any longer, “are you asking me to spend the rest of my life with you but not marry you?”

She laughs at the realization, “I think so?”

They’re trying to kiss but it ends up more like laughing with their mouths touching and teeth occasionally clashing. It’s hysterical because of the marijuana, sure, but they’re high on each other. It’s everything they’ve ever wanted.

To find something better than drugs; that little purpose in life comes back, that drive to see tomorrow because there are good memories to be made with their favourite person. She’s not afraid of the darkness or the unknowing anymore, Spencer’s her guiding light.

He's holding her close to his chest after a while, "are you feeling better?"

"Of course," she smiles, "I've got my weed and my reid."

His laugh is everything as it fills their space again. This was how the rest of her life was going to feel, and it made her excited for tomorrow.

—

She’s feeling a lot better later and they need Spencer to help Penelope back at work, but he doesn’t want to leave her. She’s in sweats with a blanket on her lap in the corner of Penelope’s office, a book in her hand and a coffee on the table beside her as she listens to them bicker back and forth.

“If you hack the NSA we can no longer use all this as evidence if he’s brought in alive, Penelope!” Spencer whisper shouts at her, afraid to raise his voice at her but wanting to get his point across.

“Hotch needs the aerial shots like yesterday, and the NSA won't get them to us in time for this kid!” She yells back.

“Call google…” Y/N suggests, flipping through her book.

“What?” Spencer looks at her like she just said the dumbest thing ever.

“They’re taking photos constantly for their maps program, my mom was saying our new roof is now on the updated map. They might have all the photos saved up, if the FBI asks nicely they might work with you…” she explains, pressing her lips together in a tight smile.

“You’re a genius!” Penelope shouts, dialling the phone and getting JJ to work his media magic for contact at google.

Spencer's smile is one she hasn’t seen before, he’s not only proud of her; he looks a little turned on. She just cracked the case by knowing all the little hacks about the internet as part of her day job. She lived online, and now she was saving lives because of it.

It was a good case to help on, she got to see 3 kids go home to their parents and know a terrible man was going to rot in prison for the rest of his sad and pathetic life. The hard part was seeing them go through months of footage of this guy's yard, seeing the child-sized holes he dug up. The disrupted earth and the knowledge of what happened when there wasn’t picture proof.

—

They go to a meeting after work.

They sit side by side, her leg is crossed and resting over his knee as their arms are linked and fingers interlocked. They really couldn’t be any closer if they tried. They just wanted to listen today, to know they were in a room of people who were trying, people who understood and battled every bad feeling they did.

“Y/N,” the group leader calls her out just before the end of the meeting, “it’s nice to see you back here with Spencer, we heard you found another group but it’s nice to see you here for the support.”

“Thank you,” she smiled. “I’m sorry I couldn’t stay, but as you can see he is distracting.” She gestured to how they were sitting with a small giggle. “I like coming here if you guys don’t mind me occasionally dropping by?”

“By all means,” another member, carol, spoke up. “Spencer is a great sponsor, it’s nice to see him happy.”

She didn’t know he was a sponsor but he thanks her for the compliment, it turns out almost everyone in his group turned to Spencer for support. It was comforting to everyone there to know the real, chemical and biological reasoning behind their addictions. Spencer provided a sense of calm for all of them, like a younger brother; they all loved him dearly.

They’re still holding hands as they walk home, the sun is still setting and it's barely even 7 pm. All the lights on the street are on, shops are closing and the sidewalks are bare. One store is still open however, across the street, she can see the big storefront window, illuminated with the brightest lights to show off a new collection of rings.

“Do you want one?” He notices her eyes darting to the light like a moth to a flame.

“What?” She zones back in when he stops walking.

“A ring, do you want to get one?” He clarifies with the softest voice.

She nods softly, “you should get one too though, seeing as I asked you and everything.”

He grips her hand tighter and they dart across the street. Giggling like children running to the playground, they’re almost out of breath from laughing as they open the shop door with a ding. Smiles on their faces, joy in their hearts, it makes the shop owner swoon as she sees them.

“Did you just get engaged?” She pries with a knowing smile.

They nod, “we just need some rings,” Y/N adds.

She waves them over, “well I’m going to need our sizes first, here try these on.” She hands them what looks like a thin ruler with holes spaces out.

Y/N attempts to find the right one, fitting the best into the 9 and a half. Spencer fits into the 11 on the first try like he knew already and the woman just laughs at the way Y/N glares at him with love.

“What kind of rings are we thinking? Do you have a preferred cut, style, size, or colour?”

It’s a lot all at once and she’s never really thought about it, “I love my grandma's ring, do you have any vintage styles?”

“I have vintage-style rings as well as some restored rings from the '20s and '30s,” she brings out a jewellery box from under the counter. “These are all appraised and unique.”

When she takes the lid off, Y/N’s eyes widen at the view. There are at least 50 rings in their velvet beds as they wait patiently to be tried on; all different shapes sizes and colours like she said. It feels a little overwhelming at first but then her eyes land on a green one. She takes it out slowly and slides it over her ring finger.

It’s perfect.

Spencer picks out a nice gold band to match, he pays and the lady is so happy to watch them leave hand in hand with their new rings. Dedicated to each other forever and ever, he was her person for the rest of time because he said so and that’s as good as a piece of paper.

She’s a completely different person from who she was when she woke up; twirling down the street with the love of her life, high on loving him as he makes her laugh and holds her hand. He stops in the middle of the street and places his hands on her cheeks, drawing her in closer.

“Loving you is so much fun.”

“Ain’t it fun?” She agrees with a smile before pressing their lips together.

taglist:

@g0lden-cth @doctorspenceryeet @samuel-de-champagne-problems @reiding-recs @ssavanessa22 @spookyspence @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria@reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @calm-and-doctor

[nuclearnerves]

INCOMING VAMPIRE AU THOUGHTS

Don't mind me I'm finally getting the ideas I had on this shit out so I can actually go forward with developing it as an AU. It's my usual mixup of fps protags, Gordon Guy and John, but I'm starting with Gordon as the Vampire and Guy as the Vampire Hunter.

absolute beast of a wall of text under the cut

What If Being A Vampire Literally Sucks All The Time Forever like chronic pain sucks. like THAT level of sucks. Like Here's what I was thinking of. Being a vampire isn't just "being alive forever but you need to drink human blood" It's like Oh man I have some lore you look at vampires and their main thing is that they're blood suckers right so lets start with a corpse dead body. cadaver. no longer with us. just some rotting meat. The brain needs oxygen as fuel. The blood supplies the oxygen through blood. The blood is pumped through the heart. The blood is made by your bone marrow. You die. Your heart stops beating Blood stops pumping Brain no longer has oxygen to think marrow stops making blood thats standard! Now, becoming undead, as a vampire, is a little more complicated. The long and short of it is: your body is FIGHTING ACTIVELY to be alive against all odds and wins every time (immortality), but it hurts the whole way

I have the gist of it. It's like. Your heart stops. By all means, you should be dead. but the magic kicks in, and you're still thinking. Your brain is still sending signals to your muscles to move. But using what oxygen to move? whats burning in you? You don't know but you know it's just enough to get to your next meal. So you ferociously eat something, and then find you can't swallow. You can't make saliva. You barely have the energy to chew, and once you DO get something in your stomach, it immediately comes back up. Why can't you feel your pulse? What's going on? You're out of options so you figure you might as well just lie down and die. You're too tired to keep going anyway. So you do, you lie down, and you close your eyes, and you quietly hope that death is as peaceful as sleep. You realize you've actually been moving around without breathing, which makes sense because you can barely flex your diaphragm for more than a shaky wheeze. How are you thinking with such little oxygen? But as you fade from consciousness, you can feel something in you, and it's so upset, it's crying, it's filled with grief, and you instantly can tell it's your skeleton. It's your bones. You're distraught down to your marrow. You're dying. You're dying! Your heart stopped and you have no more blood! You need blood! You need blood to move! To breathe! To think! You try to breath deep again for the voices in your bones, trying to comfort them, to sooth them with the repetitive motion in your lungs, trying to fill yourself with anything but grief, but they keep wailing. We make the blood, our creation, our child, what we put all of our work into is gone! gone! gone! We need it back! Anything! All of it! Find it! Bring it back to us! We're hungry! WE'RE HUNGRY!

and once you find yourself too exhausted to listen, to think, how badly you wish just to die already to cease hearing this wailing, you find your body moving without you. And it's hungry and it's searching and it's crawling on all fours and it misses its beautiful red life that made it feel so full before and it needs it back, and the next thing you know you're desperately grabbing anything with blood in it and shoving it in your mouth in a desperate attempt to sooth this cry for life, you don't want to die, you don't want to die, you worked so hard to keep up this body and craft it and LIVE with it and you're not going to go, and even when you try, even when you try to lay down and die, your body refuses, it takes the reigns, and it keeps up the work itself with or without your help. And it's not until your stomach is full and your teeth are stained and you feel a pulsating burning in your bones that you snap back awake, completely conscious, just fine. You're lucid, you don't feel any more pain. Everything around you is dead and drained and messy and your heart still isn't beating. but you can breathe now and holy shit you guess you literally need to kill to survive and the less you eat and the more you starve yourself the worse it gets when your body finally decides to take recourse.

my idea was like. "the vampires curse is actually stored in the bones, thats why the teeth get so sharp and also theres a connection between blood and bones with the creation via bone marrow" its literally like i was sitting there thinking "no no no, whats it like to be a vampire. what neurosis would you develop. How would you panic? What are common mistakes beginner vampires make" which, by the way, gordon is a beginner vampire

so now you gotta factor, what blood lasts for how long? how long can you go between meals? not only that, but what creatures satisfy the urge? How long can you go avoiding human blood? Does it work like drugs where you develop a resistance to the high, or is it like food where it will keep you moving until you eat again? How the fuck are you gonna get your hands on blood? Can you just eat raw meat? Does that count? and thats where im at lol

OKAY now. now thoughts on beginning scenes of vampire au

So my idea was this Doomguy is a vampire hunter independent and one of his buds says that some freak scared and almost attacked his daughter when she got too close to his old abandoned laboratory up the hill and hes like “he might be… you know… a problem. if you needed a lead” and guys like yeah i fuckin hate the undead ill kill this dude so he busts into old lab space and sees so many dead animals its actually mostly Bones and pelt that hes seeing piles of feathers etc so hes like yeah this is all telltale signs of vampire uhhh hes introduced to gordon SOMEHOW im not totally sure of the details but the working idea i have is guy falls into a trap gordon devised that restrains him suspended in wire or something and gordon like. limps/stumbles into the room and this dude looks haggard he’s breathing heavy, his cheeks are hollow, he’s bug-eyed and shaking while looking at this massive wall of meat in his trap and he bares a bunch of hideous teeth and grits them and looks like hes really struggling with somethin... Like if these dudes don't know each other then Gordon might give in and try to drain Guy, and Guy would absolutely do anything in his power to turn this new vampire into ash, im thinking the inclusion if g-man as a coven leader can fix both issues.

i like the idea of guy falling into gordons trap and gordon thinking about what to do with him before gman shows up and whisks gordon away for a “meeting” while complimenting him on his good work catching the most feared vampire hunter in the country and gman just leaving guy suspended in wires that he has to fight his way out of. Instant situation defuser.

Guy ends up needing to take care of other monsters before going back to Gordon, and he DOES plan to go back to gordon, because no vampire is a good one, especially not one associated with the fucking head of a coven, but next time he sees Gordon, Gordon helps him out of a scrape by attacking and draining a combine who was going to take Guy out or something and escaping before Guy can catch him, or otherwise seeing Gordon do something good with his insane undead powers and like, the third time he meets up with him is when they can actually talk, and Gordons fuckin SO haggard, he’s not even fighting back and he’s even going as far as to say “just make sure theres nothing of me left when you’re done, I don’t want anyone else getting hurt”

Side Note: Guy has a bunch of scarring on his body from dealing with vampires, cops, ghosts, werewolves, anything violent that kills people. I'm playing with the inkling of an idea that he has Divine Blood in him, so that any time something undead bites him or tries to drink his blood, it burns. We'll see.

Side Note 2: now i really like the idea of the combine actually being an organized faction of vampire hunters that are WICKED crooked and exploit people for all their worth in exchange for their “safety” when they kill a vampire They’re essentially loansharks and Guy fucking hates them and hates the name theyve given to vampire hunting

Side Note 3: You've probably noticed that I haven't said anything about John yet! He's in this too. His species is a surprise but I need to get to him later I have an idea for where he came from (Cortana too)

I still need a good reason for Guy to not instantly kill this vampire, if not it's just gonna be "Gordon Freeman escapes the countrys best vampire hunter like a seventh time" every time they meet and they end up being rivals. And it gives Guy enough time to look past the whole "undead monster" thing and start looking at the "Oh this dude figured out how to fight his ridiculous craving for blood in a way more humane than most and is actually staying out of peoples way and keeping to himself. Guess he's not that big of a threat but I still need to keep an eye on him in case he loses it. Turns out he's got a family (Probably Alyx, Eli, Issac and Barney) who's been lookin for him and cares about him as well, don't wanna hurt them". I like the idea of them ending up needing to team up to take out undead together.

And that's what I got so far!!!

[saturnsstufff]

The Blade and The Crow

warnings: mentions of death

   Immortals are painted so delicately high in stories. Each brush stroke gently and precisely placed, placed without flaw. Immortal's either see Mortal's as a soft malleable child, open and willing to learn, yet desperately in need of guidance. Or they see them as fools, not cautious enough with their limited time.

   When the Angel Of Death saw Mortal's he saw them as pure Fools. Too stupid and naïve in the understanding of God's, and Immortals. What made him turn his nose up the most however was their lacking in interest. They didn't want to learn, or understand the unnatural order. Mortals shunned the forbidden knowledge, to Phil- someone who loved to learn, someone who soaked information up seamlessly, he couldn't understand their uninterest.

   Philza was young however, he was still new to this... power. No matter how long Immortals live their is always a beginning. A start to their story, a single hushed word, maybe written, thought, or spoken, sometimes even screamed, whether gloriously or in sin. sometimes their beginnings aren't wrote or even spoke of, sometimes they are painted, mostly because words cannot begin to explain.

   When Phil started becoming Devine, he honestly didn't think much about it, frankly he didn't even understand it was happening. He was a teen, young, a bit of a lady killer if you asked around, but entirely he was kind and quite generous. His parents focused on raising a kind son, the type any girl could bring hoe to her parents and be proud of. Truthfully, between his never ending manners and his strive for hard work, it was hard to not be proud of him, or at least acknowledge he was striving for the stars. 

   Phil's story started Hushed, soft, gentle even. Like a slow morning. The sun slowly leaving it's hidden spot. Shining and blossoming out to something much larger, sometimes more threatening. Just like that Sunrise, no matter how small and frail he was, by the end of eons Phil would become something more threatening, and terrifying. Some wouldn't even know he was born a child, for every story and legend taken down described him as a immortal elder who flew trough eons as a blood thirsty, torn man.

   However, about his teens he started to notice his aging slowing down dramatically. His mother would always play it off as having a young baby face. The common thing any mother would tell her child. “Oh it’s just your youth showing, no need to worry”, “It’s just a baby face, your father had it too” all things he was told. He believed it too, after all, was he supposed to look into it?

   Sadly this odd aging became more apparent with every new year. By Nineteen he roughly looked about fifteen, when he turned twenty, he similarly looked the same. Because of this oddity he found himself staying home, or keeping away from the public more and more, not wishing to be ridiculed or looked at as a medical mystery. 

   He tried to grow close to some at least, some girls still lingered to his kindness. That was until they looked like a older woman carrying a child around on her arm. After being left  so many times, Phil couldn't help but draw back, and subconsciously shut himself down on seeking out a possible partner. After all, who wanted to bee seen with a child?

   When he matured into his thirties, he moved into a cottage by himself. He lied to his mother about the reasoning, telling her he wanted to explore the world more, grow up and experience it all. He knew his father wouldn't need help around the house anymore so it was perfect timing for the excuse. However, deep down he knew he was only leaving because he didn't want the village people to see a thirty-year old looking like a nineteen year old.

   After his departure he only came back for two things. His Father’s and his Mother’s Funeral. He would always kick himself in the future when he looked back on his mothers death. He couldn't stay through her whole service, not because of the tears he shed, but because of the lingering comments the villagers made. They didn't recognize Phil, thus they assumed he never showed. So instead of whispering saddened through's about her missing child, they down talked him. They cursed his “absence”, they wished Ill on him, they hoped he suffered for it.

   When Phil thinks back on this, he always remembers this as the first time he felt something deep within him stir.

   For every word, every curse... Every ill will... 

He wished it back tenfold. 

   “Shame their boy didn't show, I thought he was so kind”

   ‘Shame you don't open your eyes’

   “Don't you think he would at least show? I mean its a funeral, its not like he had anyone else.”

   ‘I don't see anyone at your funeral, not with how you keep both faces upturned’

   “I hope he remembers missing his mothers death, I hope it stays with him forever”

   ‘rot in hell’ 

   He knew most of his anger was from grief, he knew he shouldn't take it out on the others, it wasn't the right thing to do. 

   But that didn't stop him from doing it anyway.

   He should have been about a hundred now. he was easily old, yet he looked no older than twenty. He couldn't explain it, but that didn't stop him from living, he still kept going day to day.

   After a few more he left the pew, no longer waiting to hear what else they had to say about his absence.

   After he hit three digit numbers, he started to change drastically...

   He met a woman on his One hundred, and fiftieth birthday, and Oh would he always remember her. She never gave her name, yet Phil trusted her with his whole heart. 

   She came to him when he was out late hunting. The night was cold, the first snowfall hadn't been long ago, so as Phil prowled the woods his breath came out in puff’s, the cloud showing his shaky breath. At first he thought he was seeing things, shadows moving too swiftly for a pure animal. He would see one on his left, then swiftly from behind him, then to his right. it was enough to drive anyone insane at the thought.

   Pushing aside his fear, he drew the sting of his bow back, assuming a black bear had taken interest into his loneliness, prowling alongside him, waiting to send him back to his mothers grave in bits. Phil was wise enough to know the situation of “You or Me, we both cant leave” So before the bear could strike he pulled the arrow back, tucking the nock against the corner of his lip, the fletching brushing his cheek in the process, giving contrast to the cold night. With the arrow ready, he waited for the sound of movement. 

   When he herd the wind pass by his ear in a swift breeze, he released a breath and turned, releasing the arrow from his grip, letting the arrow pierce the air, waiting for the sound of a hit.

But it didn't come.

   Instead, when he turned to see his kill, he saw a kind woman looking down at him. She was tall, yet beautiful in every point, wings of gold glittered under the moonlight, acting like a natural halo behind her. Her face was hidden by her black veil, black curls kissing her cheeks as they fell over her shoulder. Not only was Phil stunned, but he was left speechless when he saw her holding his arrow, the arrow he shot in hopes to end animal.

   “Well hello there little one”

[spencers-renaissance]

💫Moreid Masterlist

GIF by @criminalmindsvibez​

Hurt/Comfort or Angst with a Happy Ending

🌊Still Left With the River

Derek wakes up to find his boyfriend crying on the sofa. Cue the hurt, the comfort, and the fluff.

1.6k, hurt/comfort, fluff, caretaker!derek, autistic spencer, crying, sad spencer

🌳Trees and Seas Have Flown Away, I Call it Loving You

Derek says something hurtful, but it happens to lead to just about the best thing that’s ever happened to Spencer.

3.2k, hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, fighting/making up, angst with a happy ending, autistic spencer, coming out, getting together

🍓A Chronicle of Loss

5 people Spencer Reid lost and 1 person he gained. A look at the traumas Spencer faces over the series, and giving him the happy ending he deserves.

3.6k, grief, loss, abandonment issues, insecurity, depression, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, getting together, ‘didn’t know they were dating’, protective derek, autistic spencer

🍯Honeysuckle

The BAU decide to head out for a picnic one summer afternoon, but they’re soon rudely interrupted by a bee sting and anaphylactic shock. Seeing Spencer carted off in an ambulance is not exactly how they expected the day to go.

2.3k, whump, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, hurt spencer, friendship, medical conditions, severe allergic reactions

🌙The Noiseless Crash of Crumbling Walls

After Derek and Spencer are paired up on a science project in their senior year of high school, they become the closest, most unlikely friends possible. But what happens when Derek finally finds out what Spencer's dealing with at home? Inspired by the prompt “where did you get those bruises?”

4.5k, high school au, hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, hurt spencer, protective derek, abuse, friendship, pre-slash, spencer just turned 16, derek is almost 18

🔥The Insistent Burn of a Falling Heart  - part two

Derek is hopelessly in love with his childhood best friend, and he can't even escape him at home, since they're living together while they study at Cal Tech. He's resigned himself to a miserable, Spencer-less fate until lasagne, bad memories, and a whole lot of crying bring the real truth out into the open.

4.2k, hurt!spencer, fluff, angst with a happy ending, mutual pining, getting together, college au, first kiss, misunderstandings 

💔let him be soft (and let him be mine) part one // part two

After Derek pulls another self-sacrificing stunt at the culmination of their most recent case, Spencer runs out of their apartment as he desperately grapples with how it makes him feel. (Collab with @criminalmindsvibez​! You can find her complimentary edit here.)

2.4k, hurt/comfort, crying, abandonment issues, injured!derek, hurt!spencer, miscommunication, angst with a happy ending, fluff, protective!derek

🪦how the cold numbs everything but grief

Six days after Emily dies, Spencer finds himself soaked in freezing water, catatonic on the bathroom floor. Only Derek can ease the roaring, burning, demanding agony of this grief.

1.2k, grief/mourning, emily’s ‘death’ in season six, hurt!spencer, hurt!derek, hurt/comfort, angst with a hopeful ending (serious tw for grief here)

✨storm-darkened or starry bright 

Spencer contracts HIV. It all falls apart after that.

6.5k, angst, illness, hurt!spencer, hurt/comfort, worried derek, depression, mutual pining, getting together, angst w a happy ending

⛈this heavy humanness

Spencer leaves the oven on overnight, and Derek - whose pent-up emotions get the best of him - loses it, exposing secrets neither of them expected to be spilled, for two very different reasons. They get there in the end.

3.9k, est. rel., past abuse, arguing & making up, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, miscommunication hurt spencer

💤I turn and reach for you

Three months after Hankel, Spencer starts getting terrible nightmares that keep him up at night. He tries desperately to keep his secret until one day when it's all too much to bear anymore. Luckily, Derek Morgan is there to hold him together as he falls apart.

2.1k, nightmares, hurt/comfort, ptsd, angst with a happy ending, fluff, literal sleeping together, getting together, post-revelations

Pure Fluff

🌒when I fall asleep (it is your eyes that I close)

Spencer’s not been sleeping, and as much as Derek adores his sleepy clinginess and physical affection, as soon as they get home he’s determined to get to the bottom of it.

1.9k, fluff, hurt/comfort, sleep-deprivation, clingy!spencer, physical affection, anxiety, cuddling

🎄A Christmas Like This

Spencer has a very specific plan for their first Christmas in their new house, and it has to be absolutely perfect. Derek’s going to do everything in his power to make his boyfriend as happy as possible, even if that means a house covered in garlands and a tree covered in animal skeletons…

2.9k, fluff, christmas fic, est relationship, neurodivergence, romance, domesticity, day in the life

💍my heart talks about nothing but you

Derek finds Spencer staring longingly at dancing newlyweds while on a case and once he gets to the bottom of why he’s tasked with making a proposal to a man who knows it’s coming special somehow. (He pulls it off.)

2.5k, established relationship, hurt/comfort, minor angst, fluff, relationship discussions, proposal, protective derek

✨I told the stars about you - part two

Derek and Spencer have their first date. They dance to Frank Sinatra and cuddle in an ice cream parlour, before kissing the hell out of each other at Spencer's front door. That's pretty much it. (Prequel to above fic.)

2.1k, first date, first kiss, pure tooth-rotting fluff, dancing, flirting, protective derek

🎂I can’t hold enough of you in my hands - part three

Derek and Spencer are finally getting married and the rest of the BAU are there to help them through every step of the day. Including a little surprise that Derek has up his sleeve for their first dance. (Third part to the above two fics.)

3.1k, tooth-rotting fluff, marriage/wedding day, team as family, team dynamics, domesticity, paternal hotch, maternal alex, just a whole lotta love man

🔪Shovel Talk

Hotch and Emily find out about Derek's relationship with Spencer and decide it's time for a chat.

1.5k, fluff, humour, est. rel., protective!derek, emily, and hotch, relationship reveal, mentions of past hurt spencer

📚I’ll (Never) Know What It’s Like Not to Love You

Spencer finds his old journals in the attic, and he and Derek reminisce on the days they used to pine for one another. Luckily, those days are over, and they have forever ahead of them.

1.3k, tooth-rotting domestic fluff, past mutual pining, past hurt!spencer, cuddling & snuggling, late canon

Getting Together

🌨Even More Beautiful

The BAU is stuck in Michigan with no case and no way home, so naturally, Spencer and Derek confess their love for one another. (Based on the prompt ‘You look even more beautiful covered in snow.’)

3.5k, fluff, love confessions, shy spencer, insecurity, hurt/comfort

🎧Hear it in the Silence

A short, fluffy chronicle of Spencer realising in increments how in love with Derek he is, and navigating a real, beautifully sweet relationship that's not always smooth sailing, especially since he's been hurt before. (Based on Taylor Swift’s You are in Love.)

3.7k, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, dev relationship, tw past abuse, domesticity

🎅🏼Secret Santa

Penelope rigs the BAU’s Secret Santa game to finally get Derek and Spencer together with extraordinary success, and they have her to thank for their future first date. Oh, and a sprig of mistletoe nearly throws the whole thing out the window.

2.8k, fluff, getting together, insecurity/anxiety, christmas fic, first kiss, misunderstandings, friendship

🌳The One Constant

Derek wakes up after having his appendix removed with temporary amnesia from the anesthesia, and Spencer certainly isn't prepared for the man he's pined after for four years to a) not recognise him, and b) start flirting with him. It all works out in the end, with a little help from Hotch.

4k, hurt/comfort, fluff, mutual pining, insecure spencer, flirting, getting together, misunderstandings, first kiss

☕️i’ll retire my bones to make you tea and read you poetry

Derek doesn't exactly expect to invite a sleepy Spencer over for a movie night after a case, but his blinding smile in response makes him happy he did. The kiss they share the next morning makes him even happier.

3.6k, fluff, getting together, cuddling, insecure!spencer, pet names, mutual pining, light hurt/comfort, first kiss, love confessions

Embarrassed!Spencer Drabble

A misunderstanding at a BAU get together has Spencer embarrassed and a long-awaited kiss finally happening.

1.2k, fluff, angst, getting together, first kiss

AU

📚100

Spencer's an academic researcher who spends every morning at his local library. Derek just happens to drop by one Tuesday and ask the pretty boy in the classics section if he can help him find a book. Sparks fly.

2.1k, library au, fluff, meet-cute, pining, shy spencer, coming out

💣Mayhem

Imagine that scene in S4E1 when Derek is driving the ambulance loaded with a bomb about to explode, except it’s Spencer on the other end of the phone and they finally get their shit together.

4.2k, canon divergence, spencer is the tech analyst, getting together, mutual pining, insecure spencer, angst with a happy ending, fluff, declarations of love

🧑🏻‍🦽 dry me off and hold me close

Derek has finally relented and is bringing his boyfriend Spencer to meet the rest of the team. That means, though, he has to finally tell them about his boyfriend's disability. Terrified that they'll react badly, he puts it off until he can't anymore. Turns out he was worried for nothing

5.7k, so much fluff, protective derek, disabled spencer, caretaker derek, spencer is not in the bau, team as family, hurt/comfort, light angst, est. rel, chronic illness, slice of life: disabled edition

💐I’ll bloom for you (while my heart still cries)

(Based on the age-old tumblr prompt) "Sometimes I steal flowers from your garden on my way to the cemetery and today you've caught me and insisted on coming with me to make sure the 'girl is pretty enough to warrant flower theft' and I'm trying to figure out how to break it to you that we're on our way to a graveyard."

3.7k, fluff, meet-cute, au: student spencer, fbi agent derek, hacker penelope, grief & mourning, shy spencer, getting together, mutual pining

🌖This Gravitational Pull

Penelope Garcia sets her two best friends Derek & Spencer up on a blind first date. Even with the best intentions and highest expectations, no-one could've predicted it would go quite this well.

2.9k, fluff, first date, au: diff first meeting, shy spencer, insecurity, anxiety, flirting, cuddling, protective derek, silly amounts of affection

[iamanartichoke]

Congrats on follower milestone! I greatly enjoy your presence on my dash with your thoughts and witty tags and all :) For the Loki writing prompt, here's a sort of idea or mood or emotion, very vague, but maybe you can make something of it, and if not, totally cool! Prompt: Mobius taking care of Loki.

@humbae Thanks so much for your kind words as well as the prompt! I kinda just took the "taking care of" idea and had Mobius do the bare minimum, bc it's angstier that way, but I hope you like it anyway.

Summary: Takes place immediately after the end of episode 1; Loki has a realization and Mobius kinda maybe cares. Word Count: 1460 Author’s notes: Please forgive the quality, I started this earlier today and wanted to post it before watching the finale, so I finished the last bit of it in a less-than-alert state, merp.

*

“What’s this?” Loki asks. He can’t keep the edge of suspicion out of his voice.

“It’s tea,” Mobius says, as if it’s obvious. He sets the red mug down in front of Loki. “What we normally do is drink it.”

The suspicion doesn’t leave him. Loki eyes the mug, wondering if he’d even be able to tell if Mobius had done something nefarious to it - but, there would be little point in Mobius going to the trouble of intervening in Loki’s “trial” and recruiting him to the TVA only to turn around and poison him so, despite himself, Loki picks up the mug and takes a cautious sip.

“Hope you like chamomile,” Mobius adds as he takes the seat across from Loki. “It’s all I could find.”

“It’s passable,” Loki says, after a longer sip. When was the last time he’d had anything to drink? He can’t remember; the blur of New York shifts too sharply into the shock of the TVA and his brain feels too muddled to grasp onto any specifics. There’s been a consistent twisting in his stomach for days; he doesn’t know how long it’s been since he’s eaten, either.

Mobius is just watching him and Loki hunches his shoulders, a bit defensively. “What,” he says, setting down the mug.

Mobius shrugs. “You’re not the first Loki variant to come through here,” he responds. Before, when he’d been questioning Loki, everything about his posture had been straight and precise; now that the interrogation is over, Mobius has adopted a much more casual stance, leaning against the back of his chair with his legs slightly outstretched. “There’ve been a lot.”

“How many is a lot?” Loki’s mind is still spinning from the revelation that the rogue variant they’re hunting is another version of himself, but the idea of even more being out there just makes him feel slightly ill. There would be a crisis here, were Loki in a clearer headspace - something about how it could be possible for more than one version of himself to exist, and if those versions existed, what proof does he have that he, himself, in this moment, also exists? How does he know he is the real Loki? Is there a real Loki?

Apparently, he is in a clear enough headspace for a minor crisis. He wraps his hands around the mug, waiting for Mobius to answer.

“I don’t know,” is all Mobius says. “I’ve lost count, to be perfectly honest with you. You’re like a bad penny, you know - you just keep turning up. You’re a stubborn bastard, I’ll give you that.”

“Thank you.” Loki’s tone is icy. “So if there are so many other variants, why not prune me? What do you think I can do for you that they couldn’t?”

Mobius looks thoughtful for a moment before he shrugs. “Call it a hunch, I guess.”

Wonderful. Loki’s entire existence rests on this bureaucrat of a man’s hunch. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t find that particularly reassuring,” he counters. “How do I know you won’t simply prune me either once we find this other variant, or once I stop being useful to you?”

“What, whichever comes first?” Mobius’s lips tilt slightly upward. “I suppose you don’t.”

Loki slumps a bit in his chair. He’s still holding onto the mug and, for lack of anything else to do, brings it back to his lips. Chamomile, Mobius had called it. It tastes like honey, with just the slightest tinge of apples, and it makes Loki think of the fruit in Idunn’s orchard, how they melted on his tongue like sugar. He remembers dewy summer evenings, laying in the grass with Thor, each of them with a golden apple’s sticky sweetness coating their lips and teeth.

The back of his throat tightens and he focuses on the tea, blinking hard against the sudden sting of tears. Crying in front of Mobius is not something he wants to make a habit of.

Still - “In the desert, when your hunters set off those reset chargers …”

“They pruned the alternate timeline you created when you took off with the tesseract, yeah.” Mobius adjusts his position, straightening up and leaning forward, elbows on the table. “You - that is, the you that’s supposed to exist - never escaped. Your brother took you back to Asgard.”

“And the sacred timeline continues as it should.” The twisting in Loki’s stomach worsens, and it has nothing to do with hunger. “Which means I can never return to Asgard, because he’s already there.”

Mobius’s forehead creases a bit as he nods. He looks almost sympathetic. “You don’t have a place there, no,” he agrees.

A heavy silence falls over them. Loki doesn’t need Mobius to spell it out any further. Loki, the Loki he is right now, will never see Thor again. Nor his mother, or even Odin … but mostly, not Thor. His brother is the worst kind of gone, because he’s not dead, nor lost. He exists on the sacred timeline, forever separated from Loki, and none the wiser to Loki’s absence. He’ll never know that Loki is gone, because the correct Loki is still right where he should be - rotting in Asgard’s dungeons, perhaps, but home all the same.

Rage wells up inside of him, swift and cutting. He pushes away from the table and jumps to his feet so abruptly that even Mobius startles, but before he can do anything, Loki has hurled the red mug against the wall and it shatters, tea and glass shards clattering to the floor. “It isn’t fair,” he snarls; he pushes his hands through his hair, yanking hard at the strands yet the sting of it barely even registers. "That's not fair."

“Loki -”

Loki barely hears him. He drops his hands and clenches his fists; the rage is pressing against his throat, desperate for escape. He wants to scream. He wants to hurl magic in every direction. He truly wants to burn this place to the ground - the TVA, the timekeepers, and every person within it who is complicit in taking away entire realities with hardly a thought spared to the variants left behind.

He’s breathing hard. The trouble is, all of that anger has nowhere to go. Loki cannot bring himself to explode the way he wants to - with neither his magic nor the ability to set fire to the timekeepers’ hearts here and now, the only other option he’s got is to throw things, and he’s hurled enough chairs for today.

Closing his eyes, Loki turns in a circle, grabbing the back of his chair. Instead of throwing it, he leans forward, pressing all of his weight against it because he isn’t sure he can hold himself up. The effort it takes to keep from screaming is leaving him light-headed. Not Thor. Please, please don’t take Thor from me.

“Loki,” Mobius says again. Loki draws in a breath and lets it out slowly, and then opens his eyes and looks up. Mobius is hovering over him, but somehow he’s less dominating than he’d been before. He seems almost concerned - either that, or just plain tired. “Look, I get it. I get that you’re upset, but -”

“How?” Loki demands. His voice is hardly more than a growl. “The timekeepers made you. You’ve never lost anyone. You’ve never known anything besides this … this nightmare.” Frustrated, he pushes away from the chair and gestures broadly at the room around them. “Don’t tell me you get it.”

Mobius sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “You’re right,” he agrees, “I suppose I don’t get it. But I can’t change what you’ve lost, either. All I can do is -”

“I know,” Loki cuts him off, and now he is the one who feels just plain tired. Just as swiftly as the rage had crashed over him, it was now receding again, leaving Loki feeling drained and so, so exhausted. “All you can do is offer me opportunity.” Not salvation. Not anything useful.

Instead of replying, Mobius just puts his hands in his pockets and rocks back on his heels. “Why don’t we start fresh tomorrow,” he suggests. “Okay? ‘Cause I can also offer you your benefits package, if you’re interested. Involves a hot meal and a place to sleep.” His lips quirk a little. “No offense, but you look like you could use both, like, yesterday.”

Loki eyes the other man. Mobius’s features blur a bit, and he realizes it’s because his eyes have welled up. He rubs them and then sighs and nods, giving in because what else is he to do? This is what he has been reduced to - powerless, with nowhere else to go, his entire existence contingent upon getting in - and staying in - Mobius’s good graces.

He’ll start with a hot meal.