#(figured a good first thread would be after they've met but before she knows he's a vampire~)

[crownshattered]

@fiendrites~

This man perplexed her. A lot of his strange features could be nothing, such as his pale skin and red eyes, but she could see that his teeth were a bit sharper than those of a normal high elf... And, of course, the scars on his neck. If it were any other situation, she would be certain he was a vampire. But Faenethra met him in broad daylight. That was extremely strong evidence against any vampirism.

Well, the worst thing he has done to her so far was attempt to hold a knife to her throat. If he was a vampire, he wasn't trying to hurt anyone. Faenethra figured that was enough for her to trust him, at least somewhat. It was more than what most people would give a drow like her.

"What do you make of this grove?" Faenethra asked him, glancing at the man from beneath her dark hood. She wasn't usually one for conversation, but it seemed like she would be stuck with these people for a while... She figured she might as well talk to them.

[atinylittlepain]

Of Saints and Sinners - Chapter 2

Joel Miller x f!reader/f!oc

read chapter 1 here

warnings | 18+ angst, canon-typical violence

a/n | A shorter chapter. Still very much in the exposition but we learn a little more about our girl!

“I’m like Ellie.”

Those are the words that keep replaying in Joel’s mind. Her words. That, and the image of her mottled back, the grave scars and the swirling black ink on top of them. They've made it back to town, only after promising she'd talk to him later that night, so long as he kept her secret. He had asked her who else knew and she had told him only Tommy and Maria and the men you came to Jackson with. Suddenly she wasn't so cold, practically begging him not to tell anyone. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she had been on the verge of tears.

He’s supposed to go to her house tonight, to get some more answers. He feels like his head is spinning because suddenly, there’s another person like Ellie. Someone else immune. He understands why she wants this kept secret. It’s the same reason he feels the pull to protect Ellie. She's valuable, and that makes her dangerous. 

He gets to her house late, already dark out. The curtains are shut but faint light seeps out along the edges. She lives with Alex and Steve, and it’s one of the two who answer the door when he knocks, although Joel can’t be sure which.

“Miller, what can I help you with?” The young man crosses his arms over his chest, making himself a little bigger, a little grimmer. He’s the one that can sometimes coax you down to the bar in town, Joel’s seen him even pull a smile out of you. 

“He’s here to talk with me, Steve, it’s alright.” She comes up behind her companion, squeezing his shoulder. The two of them share a look before Steve steps back, sulking back into the house.

“I didn’t realize he was your bodyguard.” She snorts at that, shrugging her shoulder to invite him in. “He means well.”

“Where’s the other one?” She tells him that Alex is on patrol tonight, letting him follow her down the hall to what he assumes is her room. She closes the door behind him. It’s sparse, a mattress on the floor, an old wicker rocking chair, and a few stacks of clothes. What draws his attention are the stacks of books next to her bed. She must have been picking those up for ages to have so many collected. 

She sits at the end of your bed and motions for him to sit in the chair. “Well, I told you I’d give you answers. So start asking questions.”

“Where’d you get all that ink?”

“That’s what you’re worried about?” Joel huffs. He’s not really sure where to start, that’s just the first thing that came out.

She pinches the bridge of her nose, eyes squeezed shut. “Alex, he was an artist before – well, before. When I met him he had a gun made out of an old sewing machine motor, making his own ink out of ash and witch hazel. I’d let him practice on me. Figured anything would be better than what was already there.”

Quiet descends again. Joel wracks his brain, trying to find some thread of sanity, what to ask her next.

“That doesn’t sound real safe,” she fully laughs at that, pressing her palms into her thighs to stand up. “Look, if you just came to ask me questions about my tattoos, this conversation can be over right now and I can be out of here by tomorrow morning and no one has to know anything.”

“Listen, I’m trying to figure this all out too. I’m still having a hard time believing what I saw, what you told me. But I don’t see why you’re getting ready to fly the fucking coop. You got a good thing going here.”

Joel’s up on his feet and suddenly they're both in each other’s faces.

“Yeah, I do have a good thing going here, and I think you know better than most what a secret like mine can do to a good thing. I’m not gonna be turned into another person’s lab rat, do you understand?” Joel swallows, “another?”

“What?”

“You said you weren’t gonna be turned into another person’s lab rat. Is that what all those bites are from?” Joel doesn’t need an answer, he’s already got it in the way she shrinks back, gaze skittering to the ground. Something in him twinges at that.

“Does Ellie know about you?” She looks up at him again, shaking her head.

“I told you already. Only Alex, Steve, Tommy, and Maria know. And now, unfortunately, you.” She crosses her arms over her chest, letting out a long exhale.

“I wouldn’t tell anyone, you know. I wouldn’t do that to you.” Joel tries to sound genuine, but feels like he ends up coming off like a dope. “For some reason I’m inclined to believe you.” She sits back down on the edge of her bed, Joel leans back against the wall.

“Is that why you go out on those raids?” She looks up at him, questioning. “You’re immune. Feel like you can go out and play hero or somethin’?” She prickles at that, hardening her eyes into a glare.

“Hardly. I just need to get away from all this. It’s good. But it’s not real. Out there? That’s what’s real.” She's looking down at her hands, mumbling out the last of it. It’s quiet for a moment. Joel can understand that. That feeling like everything’s gonna fall out from under you eventually, because it always has, and you have to be ready for that inevitable plummet.

He studies her for a moment. The slope of her nose, her eyelashes falling over the tops of her cheeks. He thinks to himself that she would’ve been pretty, back before. Now, she's something else entirely, something that makes his breath kick in a way he’d be hard pressed to admit.

“You got any other questions?”

“Is Steve your – your man?” That one draws a laugh out of her that makes Joel reel. “You really ask the dumbest shit, you know that?” He hardly hears what she says, too focused on the waft of a smile across her face.

“I don’t have a man, Joel Miller. Just really important friends.” With that, she stands up, tilting her head as if to say are we done here? “So you’re gonna keep my secret?”

He nods, “you don’t have to worry about it, I will.”

She lets out another long sigh, opening her door and walking him back to her porch. As Joel’s walking out, he turns on his heel, “can I ask you one more thing?” She looks at him, expectantly.

“Why does everyone around here call you the saint?” 

“You’re out of questions. Good night, Joel.”

[qwanderer]

Loki in the Hall of Mirrors

This story is complicated. Not, like, as a plot, not particularly, but philosophically and thematically. It's got that great play of hero against villain that I love about the Loki story in general and that makes it all so divisive and messy. And I love it even more than I did on first watch.

The first time I watched the desert landing scene, I was like, "Wait? What happened to Allspeak?" because the people who live there don't seem to understand him. But on the second watch, I realized it could be a lack of context, rather than a break in translation. These people probably have an even chance of knowing nothing about Norse myth. Like, what if an alien came up to you and said "I am Boogle of Bofgar, I carry a burden"? You would still have questions like "What the hell is a boogle and why are you carrying your shit here?" So the basic dynamic of Allspeak is probably still functioning, and Loki probably understood their questions, but he was still trying to figure out how to answer when he got distracted by the TVA people.

It could even be an innate psychic ability rather than a magical one, as he seems to understand everyone in the TVA, including the man who can't be fluent in all languages like the field agents because he has never heard of a fish and the seemingly nonverbal robot. (Which of course makes me want Loki talking with Dum-E and the other shop bots! But I digress.)

Okay. I want to start talking about the next-level manipulation shit the TVA are pulling on Loki here. Time, as they say, moves differently in the TVA, and one might even assume that they can avoid having to deal with more variants at once than they can handle. And yet we see them dealing with exactly two other troublemakers during Loki's onboarding.

The first, I'm going to call little echo man.

Little echo man is incredibly annoying to Loki, because he does and says everything Loki might find himself inclined to do and say if he wanted to be difficult. Little echo man does these things in little annoying undignified ways, making them look silly and petulant. Little echo man protests and questions and pushes back, in his business suit and his long dark hair and pale skin, and clearly thinks everyone should treat him as important even though every indication is that he is an annoyance and an afterthought.

Perhaps he's a plant, and perhaps he's just a variant of an annoying but predictable regular they see who they lined up at the same time on purpose. But he is on purpose. Everything he does screams directly at Loki, "Don't do this."

We'll get to the second convenient intersection later.

The most obvious layer of manipulation is simply the beraucracy. They put him up against a series of obstacles which he needs to deal with to get anywhere else, and nothing he does can get him past those obstacles except compliance. All of these obstacles have personality, but they are not personable. They treat Loki like a bag of trash they have been tasked with taking to the curb. Annoying, distasteful, but ultimately routine. His silver tongue isn't going to get him anywhere because these people simply don't care.

I think a lot of these he just goes along with to see where it gets him, since at this point he still believes he has his magic in reserve. But the fact that he steps through the robot fryer even though he thinks he might be a robot without knowing (as others have pointed out, he spent thousands of years as a frost giant without knowing it, and he's recently spent time in the control of the being who shaped Nebula) is a testament to how deep they've already got their hooks in him.

They treat the robot fryer like it's routine, but come the next obstacle, they kill little echo man like it's routine, too. Because he didn't comply.

Loki is slowly being ironed flat to thread into their compliance mill.

And then - I love this, because it reminds me of one of my favorites among the multiplicity of Lokis, GoS!Loki - they put this line in as punctuation between the impersonal, compliance, don't phase of their manipulation and everything that comes after it.

When he's set before the judge, someone actually paying some attention to him, this is his chance to use his silver tongue on someone who will listen. But, although the judge listens, she treats him the same as all the other obstacles have - like listening is a distasteful chore she would like to be done with.

So it seems like the perfect moment for a dramatic escape. Except his magic is gone.

"It's not your story," the judge says. "It never was."

That hammers in all the worst things Loki has ever believed about himself - that he stands in the shadows of others, that he will never have the central place he was raised to desire, that he is, and always will be, a villain to be vanquished rather than a person with choices and agency.

Enter Mobius.

Mobius is a big echo.

He draws all the attention in a room. He is everything that Loki wishes to be - he is powerful, informed, prepared, in control. Capable of charming the judge. And most importantly, he is actively interested in Loki.

At this point in Loki's journey - both in the show and in his life - that has to be irresistible.

So Mobius is in a perfect position to wrap Loki right around his pinky finger.

He listens to Loki without shutting him down, the way all the obstacles have. When Loki tells Mobius he's going to burn down the TVA, Mobius suggests a couple of places he might want to start. One concrete, small, mischievous. One an indication that he's open to Loki doing larger, more significant things here in the future.

He shows Loki his own past and future - but carefully edited, to paint a particular picture.

So many echoes, so many reflections - Loki is in a house of mirrors. Lost, disoriented. Distorted one way, then the other. Magnified and examined.

Loki snarks, and Mobius comments, "Makes you sound smart." Affirms Loki for that little mischievous bit of personality.

Mobius shows Loki some of the most terrible things he's done, and questions them. Pushes Loki away from them. Then changes direction before he can get too heavy-handed, to basically fangirl over the DB Cooper adventure. That's mischief. That's good. I like that.

Punishes him for a small infraction, just to remind him who is in control and that even looking threatening could be seen as a problem.

I think it was at about this point that I got hard reminded of the dynamics of the show White Collar. It's a buddy cop show on a basic level and sometimes the relationship can be very sweet, but sometimes Peter spends one too many times reminding Neal that he can send him back to prison any time he wants and the power dynamic shows its messed up edges.

Mobius is part of the machine, and the machine is doing terrible things to Loki, but I have at least a sliver of hope that the relationship could gain more balance - more genuine balance, not based on the faux freedom that Loki has gained by the end of the episode. There's something to be said for making changes to a system from within that system, but for that to be meaningful change, Mobius would have to change as a person.

Anyway, this current nastily powerful Mobius pushes Loki as hard as he can, and then is conveniently interrupted by the actions of another variant, leaving Loki alone with his remote.

It could easily have been on purpose. The only thing Loki learns by escaping that room is that the TVA is more powerful than any force in the universe, in his experience.

Let's talk about the other Loki variant for a minute. It took me until the second viewing to realize the symbolism of leaving a small child the only survivor in a place of worship, then giving her something to turn her blue.

Odin said he found Loki in a temple, in the aftermath of a battle.

It's actually frighteningly easy to imagine how a distraught Loki could get to a place where he feels the need to genuinely burn down the TVA, and kill every agent in it. Because the TVA put certain clips in his little future show, focusing on the death of his mother, the way his own actions affected it, and the futility and brutality of his own death at the hands of Thanos.

They don't show him the destruction of Asgard, his own role in helping save the evacuees, and the way Thanos decimated the population of that transport before it could even reach Earth. They don't show him the devastation of his home or his capacity to do good.

A Loki who knows that the power of the TVA exists and that he has the capacity to be Asgard's heroic savior would do anything to get that power and save his people.

But we haven't met that Loki yet. I'm sure we will, and it's going to be exhilarating.

This Loki is being taught the importance of control over little things, and so when he gets his collar off and onto that guard, he toys with her, just to see that he can. They have been toying with him and it's oh so satisfying to turn the tables. But it's still compliance in its own way, the petty little mischief that Mobius has been steering him towards.

Loki has been given just enough freedom, just enough choices, that it seems like his own choice to watch the rest of the slide show and come to the obvious conclusion - there's no "out" to go to. His life has gone on without him, and ended. And there's really no point in his trying to fix it. No putting things back the way they were.

So he admits to Mobius - the person who has listened hardest, probably, besides his mother - he admits that he is small and scared and lashing out. That he doesn't know what to do.

Of course, this is when Mobius introduces the task the TVA has for Loki - to take down his other self.

Oh, I can't wait for the next episode! I want to know where this is going.

(I've popped in some panels from Loki: Agent of Asgard because it's my favorite and the show is giving me feelings about it.)

[path-of-fire]

If you're writing AUs, could you write a Modern!AU where MC is a detective and she's on a case involving a string of murders of well known (but secretly corrupted) government officials? And Caspian is her long time partner and best friend (but also the assassin behind the murders) and they've been in love with each other for so long, but have yet to act on those feelings? I can just imagine the sweet angst...

Important Note: This is NOT done, but I wanted to make the first part available for you all to read to see if you like it so far. As I think it's going to be pretty long, and I want to make sure you all like the direction it's going in. (As well as liking it too.)

-----

The clicking of my pen against my palm is the only sound within the confines of the bullpen. My gaze staring in front of me, but I wasn't seeing anything. My mind was too occupied by the thoughts running rampant through my mind. All centered around one thing.

The case that I haven't been able to solve for the past year.

At first it seemed like a straightforward case. A senator had gotten murdered in his brownstone on January 21, 2019. His throat having been slit from ear to ear. At first I assumed that it had something to do with the mafia, but as the case wore on other leads had started becoming apparent. The greatest of which was the fact that Senator Henry A. Greene was only the first of many. Each victim being connected to the government in someway, but having varying levels of clearance. Not to mention each victim was killed in different ways.

District Attorney Pauline Davies had been asphyxiated. While Governor Everette Cooper had been shot, execution style, in the head. Not to mention the many more victims that kept appearing. All with different stories to tell, and ramping up the fear that was beginning to grow in the streets of New York.

Closing my eyes I pinch the bridge of my nose. Trying with all my might to find a connection within my mind. Anything that would tie the people together, besides the obvious, which is something that I have been doing for months on end. Many of my days were entirely fueled by coffee and energy bars instead of sleep. I just couldn't find it within myself to sleep knowing that someone was going to be killed, and that I could have potentially done something to stop it.

Of course, I had tried the mafia angle but none of their enforcers had this M.O. And if there's anything I've learned about the mafia is that they're sticklers for tradition. Plus, the fact that none of the other victims, besides Henry, had connections with them.

A sigh escapes my lips as I roll my shoulders. Trying with all my might to relieve the tension that has built up. I could feel the familiar ache that seemed to seep into my bones. The knots that were already forming from my continued posture, but I've gotten used to these things after a while.

Running my hand through my hair I glance back at the file. The simple file that has become to bane of my existence. Showing me how I've failed in everything a good detective should never fail in. 24 people were dead because I haven't been able to stop the person responsible. 24 people that had lives and families, and because I wasn't able to find a connection they would never see them again. Children lost their parents and other's either lost their daughter or son. All because I wasn't good enough to stop this.

Leaning back in my chair, I bring the heels of palms to my eyes. Trying to rub out the sudden tiredness that had been creeping up within me. I couldn't sleep now, not when a body had just recently dropped. This time with something that had changed the entire case.

A partial bloody fingerprint was found against the victims throat. Hidden slightly behind her ear from the scuffle. Beverly Townsend had been one hell of lawyer when she was alive, and it seemed to have translated when she was fighting for it. Somehow she must have injured the killer in some way. Allowing forensics to be able to forge a path that could lead to the killer. It was the first really break in the case, and I was more than grateful for it. But that didn't mean that my work was over. Far from it in actuality, I still had to find the ties the bound them. As well as the motives behind the scenes. There was always a story within each murder, no matter how menial, and I was going to try my damn hardest to find this one.

Sighing I lean my elbows against the surface of my desk. Bracketing my arms on either side of the file, and I stare. Stare at the inanimate object that has ruled my life for so long. Dictating my sleeping and eating habits for the better part of a year. All because it's contents were filled with hidden threads. Threads that tied everything together in a neat little bow, but for now it was simply a clump of knots. Completely useless until I figured out how to untie them.

Groaning I slam my head against my desk. Wanting nothing more than for this case to end, but my stubbornness refusing to let it be given to anyone else. I had to see this through. There was no other option. I just wished it wasn't so mind numbingly difficult to do.

The soft footsteps approaching me pulls me out of my reverie. My countenance brightening slightly at the familiar gait. That and the smell of freshly brewed coffee didn't hurt. Raising my head I'm met with the sight of my best friend and partner, Caspian. His sparkling glacier blue eyes staring at me, but I could easily see the concern he held for me. He has been with me throughout this entire case. Has seen the mental breakdowns I have gone through at each new body, and each subsequent interview with the family. Each one more accusing than the last. Their angry eyes pleading with me for answers on why I haven't solved this yet. The children's innocent gazes as they wondered why their mommy or daddy wasn't coming back. He has been my rock throughout this entire thing. I don't think I could have ever continued without him.

Leaning back in my seat, hearing the old chair groaning in protest, I grin at him. Already holding out my hands for the warm mug in his left hand. Feeling the warmth seep into my chilled fingers as I clasp it. Smelling the aroma of the coffee as it wafts into my nose. A happy sigh escapes me as I take a sip. Already feeling the way the caffeine seeps into my body. Giving back some of the life my hours have taken away from it.

"You should really go home and rest, Lauren," he says, his voice tinged with concern at the sight of the dark circles underneath my eyes. Setting down his coffee and touching my hand lightly. The touch sending a wave of butterflies through my stomach. "You have been burning the candle at both ends for months. It's not healthy and soon you won't have any candle left."

Trying, and failing, to smile I respond. Wanting to appease his fears. "I'm alright Cas, I feel fine. Especially with this delicious coffee you just brought me." Turning towards the file once more I flip it open. Quickly scanning the contents of the first page. "Now has the lab come back with the results yet?"

"The results for what?"

Raising my gaze in confusion at the question, I couldn't help but frown. Before I remembered that Caspian hadn't been at the crime scene that morning. Feeling slightly foolish for not filling my partner in I immediately begin to explain.

"You heard about the body drop on 27th Street, near Madison Square?" At his nod of confirmation I continue. "Well the body was Beverly Townsend, the recently up in coming defense attorney, and apparently Ms. Townsend was able to get some of the attackers blood on their hand, because there was a bloody fingerprint right underneath her ear. I guess the killer didn't notice it because of her hair." I glance down at the file in front of me before looking back up towards Caspian, and almost blanche at his expression. I don't think I've ever seen Caspian look so pale before.

"You doing okay partner? You sure you're not the one who needs to go rest?" I ask trying to keep my tone light, but even I could hear the tightness that suddenly appeared within it.

At my words Caspian seems to snap out of whatever daze he was in. "No-" he trails off for a moment and I could feel a concerned frown pull my brow down. "No, I'm quite alright but I just remembered I have to go see Oliver down in the labs. Something about one of the cold cases he's been looking in to, I'll make sure to ask him when I'm down there."

Giving a small nod I look back down at the file in front of me. Listening as Caspian retreats away from my desk. His steaming cup of coffee still sitting on my desk. I didn't want to but I feel something stirring inside of me at Caspian's words. A frown pulling at my brow and a gnawing feeling growing in my gut.

I have to go see Oliver down in the labs. Something about one of the cold cases he's been looking in to. The words repeat in my head like a taunt. Causing the gnawing feeling to grow into one of nausea.

Oliver hadn't been in for the past two weeks for medical reasons.

So why was he going down to the lab? And why did he lie to me?