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ecto-stone · 3 years

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So I don’t really know that much about that my blood au you created could you tell me a bit about it?

Ha hah I Hope this is Edible

So My Blood Au is just Me dumping all the cool stuff i can think of into a DP what if Vlad is Good ^For Starter MB Vlad or Vladimir Jude Masters is a Paranormal investigater/ hunter/exocist in a sense. He seemingly Perfect in People eye, Not Really on the inside as he have many problem stem from living so long and going though alots of thing that he prefer not to talk about that he hide from People , go so far as to adjust his own emotion to what he find fit to the situration making him really hard to read. (Not Jack and Danielle, those are close enough 2 peel him like an onion if they sense something off). -Vlad And Danny are not same kind of Halfa in this AU, Vlad is Two soul (Half Blue Demon Vampire Ghost, Half Human twisted together and blend into one) and Danny is Soul within soul (Going though the accident give him two identical soul that over lapped each other) -Ghost are nerf and ecto beam and ecto Base attack can harm ghost but they can't harm Physical thing in living world Unless they are infuse with Core element same with Human entering Purgatory. -The world have 5 Realm: LivingWorld, Purgatory (GhostZone), Elsewhereness, Fairy Land and Unworld. +Going with the idea that originaly Vlad is supposed to be a vampire and many ghost in the series feel like they are more supernature creature then Ghost. Living world now have many Human and other Creature living among each other , hidden in plain sight +Purgatory: Where Ghost go and heal before they move onto Elsewhereness (Heaven in this verse) or Rebirth back to the living cycle. There are many area in Purgatory that fit human decription of after life look like , this is due to collective faith and ideal of many Ghost focus with each other to created these Resting stop. Incidentally like the living world these area are also watch over by being call King and Queen of the Death (Caretaker and protector of the Death soul, a being with incredible power capable of bending reality). Most well known one are the King Dark, Prince Argon and Princess Dora of the Dark Age Zone. Queen Desire of the thousand and one night. ect.. newest King of the death is Ghost Writer (library of the forgotten) but he prefer not be refer to as king, just Ghost writer. +Elsewhereness: The final resting Places of enternal Bliss. Once the Soul is ready to let go of all earthly desire, they are send here. Not much is known about this realm or it location. When a Soul reach enlightment it will automatically know where to find it. The realm also House many god. +Fairy Land: Home to care taker of the childhood inocent and many god that work to keep the universe running. Most common creature that live here is Fairy with two side one silly colorful side that appear to children to granted what ever their heart desire. The other is the Blue fortune side that Weaved the fabric of Luck and fate. +Unworld: A Dark realm with one way in no way out. It house many dangerous creature, ancient outer god and unspeakable Evil that have been banish to through age by god and human. >the Origin Story: +Vlad and Jack are Friend from Childhood (Their Bond are really tight kinda like Sworn Brother ) unlike their canon counter part meet in college. They Hunt Ghost but in more of a Release soul from their earthly bound kind of way via the info they get from the Masters Family Grilmore. (There is one major inconvience is that You need to wait for the correct day and time to perform ritual sending ghost back to purgatory so they can Move on to Elsewhereness/heaven of this verse ) +They Meet Maddie in college (Maddie and Vlad almost alway in a total clash with each other with Maddie tech almost Hunter like way in dealing with ghost and Vlad more traditional Way of Handling them) Which end with Three of them forming the Original Ghost Trio. With Maddie accept Vlad and Jack Respect the Death ideal. And Vlad and Jack incorperate More Technology into their Asset. +Maddie point out the inconvinient of having to wait for the correct day for each ghost to send them back to Purgatory (Their room are fill with

Container for ghost), Which lead to them comming up with the idea of Making a Ghost Portal. <Note: MB Vlad is not into Romantic relationship, Platonic one Matter to him more> >The Accident: No diet soda the Accident is purely due to one miscalculation that cost Vlad life (his Head got Blash Clean off infront of Jack and Maddie) In that Split Second of His face getting disintigrating, Vlad get a Glim into UnWorld (the Realm where are Demon and evil of the four realm are banish to) and Got Latched on and Pushed Back to the living world by a Demon Vampire Ghost Both Soul are now inhabited Vlad headless lifeless body, in Which about 3 day after Vlad burial that Vlad Body got completely decontructed inside the coffin and recontructed into a body that is more fitting to host both . Vlad have a hard time remembering Who he is after kinda get rebirth and Wander the world until he Get Suck into a Natural Ghost Portal and got Flunk Back in time. >Journey of an Immortal Being: -Vlad Stuck in the Past, He recovered his memories, Going through existenal crisis, Evil phase, Evil make me feel bad, Not Evil anymore, Found out that he is immortal now, Existenal crisis part2, Acceptance, Travel the World and Start doing the what ever he like, learning old way of magic still helping ghost and other supernatural being. -Caused several Major Change to the past that Mythical Creature got un extinct. (Due to the Law of life and death this does not affect who get born or not, it just that the world got alots more races now and those used to be born human in the original timeline might get born as another races entirely) -Get Mistaken for Messiah.( Look You can't kill Vlad, He would just be gone for like 3 day then comeback) -Caused the legend of Dracula. -Vampire cult have a horrible obession with Vlad as a Whole. Look like vampire act like one, can walk in plain day light and more importantly the ability to Open a Portal to Unworld . ( Vlad don't use this ability much and can only open small one as it is very energy consuming) -Meet his own ancestor Which is the Fentonightingale that Later Splited into Fenton and Nightingale (later change to Masters) leading to revealation that Jack and Him might be very distant Related. -Bickering With Time God (Do not trust the Clock Man that work for the Eyes) -Get Caught in War far too many time. -Meet Phantom (an odd entity that is oddly clingy to him) in the Great War. -Meet Other Some of the DP ghost when they still alive -The Horrible Bar incident that reveal Phantom true nature, an evil being that wish to turn the world back to it original nature of nothiness and try to turn vlad to the his side, Kill, Seal in Rock Case covered with Sigil to prevent Phantom from escape, Chuck it into the ocean. - The Contruction of the Coffin Ghost Portal. (Havent actually went into the Purgatory caused the CCP is one Way Portal. -Forming of many Hidden town that home supernatural being. Amity Park is one of them. - And many more unseen story >Daddy Stolen Ribbone saga (MB Vlad is sterile, he want to have kid but can't.) -The Vampire cult that he have grudge with attemp to Clone or at least created a child that have Vlad Power through ritual and cult like method. Imagine Danny Clone but even more mess up . -Vlad end the life of most of them by his own hand (they are suffering, it is best to let them go) -Birth of Danielle: +Danielle Evelyn Masters or just Dani/Dee for short is the only Stable child come out of this whole odeal. She is Created From Vlad Ribone like a Twisted Eve. And like in the book it caused both of them to be very attached to each other in a Fatherly Daughterly Way. +Dee Have Vlad Ghost power and Demonic Power but No ghost form (Her default funtion as both and whether she is in ghost mode or Human mode is all Up to energy control) and no connection to Unworld there for she can't open portal to Unworld. Dual Soul nature Wind/Fire.

+She like Frog and is interested in Marine biology (which Vlad have full support over, she have a room fill with Vlad hand made frog plusie that she all named. +He raise her teach her everything he know about how to deal with supernatural being and how to Snipe Vampire from a long distant with pin point accuracy.

+An kidnapped incident with the Vampire cult latter resulted in Dee Death at the age of 12 (1999), and Vlad becoming fully Merged into one Being with Plasmius. and wipe out the entire vampire cult in a horrible Vlad the impaler way). +After wiping out the remainder of the cult, vlad go into retirement and work as a wall Painter < he work supper fast on celling painting and no one know why> >The Boy Who Fly (2 year before the start of actual MB story) -Danny Gain his power at the age of 10, his parent know. The event of Portal acivation caused the whole town to have a black out. -They move House alots for 2 year. And Jack try his best to make his family as normal as they can be after accidenly k his friend all those year ago and now half eff his own son. -They finding out amity park their new home is on accident when the RV engine die mid way through the middle of no Where (The town shown it self to those in need) -Danny hide his abiltiy. But after a gym incident. and getting Praise by his peer for it instead of scold like with the adult Danny start getting bolder using Floating power around his new friend when no adult is watching. <Vlad who is Working on the Giant Raven paiting for the School Saw this and know imediately What Danny is> -They offically meet each other on the the roof top, when Danny mom ask him to go down the store and by some bread and he decided to try to Air Frog Swim to it. They become friend and Vlad even teach Danny how to fly properly before having to leave (they visit each other alots after the revealation, and vlad is a good adult friend that Danny can talk to) (Danno forgot about the bread and return home breadless) -Jack may stop with the whole Paranormal hunter/ghost scientist job but not Maddie. She keep doing it behind his back due to danny special need in ecto base consumtion (he havent grow abit since the accident and keep getting smaller and it concerning) -Jack found out and they have a Fight. which lead to Maddie go to his Sister house. -Danny Found out about why his dad was so stressed out about ghost thing now. When looking through his parent old stuff with his new friend tucker. (Dude why does your parent have a Picture of the wall painter in thier old junk). He show the image to Vlad. -Danny Get jack to tell the story about the inccident. Dad what if i tell you that Your friend who die 18 year ago survived and is on our front door right now. Reunion, Jack feeling guilty about making them both like this. Go Get Maddie. Happy reunion of the trio. -Fenton Parent become accepting to Danny condition, Danny have a good mentor that can teach him ho to control his power And they live happy ever after for now

#Q/A #good god how do you add read more on a QA #my blood AU #Danny Phantom #danny phantom au #god this is long #hachi text

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feanorianethicsdepartment · 3 years

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more thoughts about the homecoming au, the au where maedhros and maglor get brought back to tirion after the war of wrath to be prettied-up trinkets on finarfin’s shelf, with painted-over scars and muffled screams. it is dark, it’s full of all kinds of emotional and caretaker abuse, and the brothers weren’t exactly in a good state of mind before any of this happened. @sunflowersupremes wrote the initial au that wasn’t even meant as horror, @outofangband - this au is as much theirs as mine, several of the concepts here were originally theirs, and a lot of this originally came out in dms with them. part 1 is here. this part contains gaslighting, loss of autonomy right at the end, more suicide mentions (thanks mae) and just general abuse from people who care more about their own comfort than the people they’re supposed to be caring for. it’s worse than the first part, honestly

most of the stuff the fëanorians had on them when they surrendered got taken away pretty fast. which is honestly understandable; some of it was cursed, a lot of it was weaponry, all of it stank to the high vault of the stars

but they both managed to hold onto some personal effects, or get them back before they went in the incinerator. a broken locket, a torn-up book, nothing fancy, nothing large, but things that still mean a lot to them

the valinoreans aren’t entirely comfortable with this. they find a lot of the brothers’ comfort items mildly disturbing, stained with darkness and (occasionally literal) blood as they are. maedhros had this dessicated finger he refuses to explain anything about that got disposed of very quickly

maglor has a few strands of brightly coloured thread, spun around each other somewhat inexpertly. he tends to pull it out when he’s feeling depressed, working it between his fingers until he feels like he can face the world again

one day, one of his minders who gets along better with him asks where he got it. from the twins, maglor admits. it’s part of some embroidery elrond abandoned when they left -

and it’s snatched out of his hands. his minder looks down at him compassionately. ‘i know you miss them, but you caused those boys a lot of pain, you know? you shouldn’t romanticise your relationship with them’

which - maglor’s relationship with the twins was complicated, and while it wasn’t nearly as hellish as elwing fears, it wasn’t entirely healthy. maglor was dependent emotionally on the kids a lot more than any adult should be to children, and vice versa

because the twins were the last people he had left. when maedhros executed celegorm’s servants with no warning at all, this rift began to grow between the sons of fëanor and their followers. they’d always been terrifying, but they’d also been comradely and inspiring, the white-hot stars around which their people orbited. but when they turned their fangs on their own host, all that started to fall away, leaving only the fear behind

it got worse after sirion. by the time vingilot rose in the sky, maglor’s only real remaining relationships were with maedhros, who he hated as much as he loved, and the twins. watching over them, talking to them, not hurting them - it kept him grounded in reality, kept him sane

he knows, he knows, he knows, they’re better off without him. but his time with them is the only happiness in his memories that still feels real

but the valinoreans can’t accept that. the exile was an awful time with nothing in it worth keeping, and the sooner he can recognise that the faster he’ll be back to his old self

besides. their caretakers don’t like being reminded of their more... unpleasant deeds

(elwing sidebar: elwing and eärendil are having an easier time, because the teleri have experience dealing with trauma and are also just more accepting of the right to have your own take on your own experiences. still, though, elwing occasionally hears that a proper telerin mother would have stayed with her children, even if she had to give up the treasure her people died for to the monsters of her childhood nightmares)

(elwing was a young adult in a horrendous situation with no obvious way out, elwing is dealing with her own damage as best she can, elwing is valid, we stan elwing. she’s also one of the few direct-ish sources the noldor have for beleriand and what the fëanorians did there, and her (perfectly reasonable!) perspective colours a lot of their treatment)

in general the valinorean noldor are quite sure they know what beleriand was like and how it felt to be there, and aren’t particularly interested in being proven wrong

it was miserable, it was harrowing, it was nothing anyone should want to think about. it was a long nightmare maedhros and maglor are so fortunate to have finally woken up from

and you can kind of see why they think like that? the ones who have seen the hither shores saw them when ash rained from a void-black sky and almost everything was dead, and the survivors told stories of a long hopeless defeat and cruelties beyond imagining

but that deep black image blots out the genuine joy they felt in those five hundred years, the chance to prove their own greatness, the knowledge they were doing something good, nights when music echoed across the gap, warm hands in a cold fortress. there were things in beleriand worth remembering, aspects of the people they became there legitimately worth keeping

and even if there wasn’t - five hundred years. the scars on their bodies make it plain to see, every little piece of who they are was shaped by beleriand, for worse and for better. they just can’t leave it behind

their valinorean caretakers find this horrifying

maedhros likes to exercise. it keeps him calm, gives him something to do. it’s not something nelyafinwë was super into - he was more the peripatetic type - but it’s a feasible hobby for a noldorin prince to have, so he’s allowed to do it

sometimes, though, he’ll unconsciously shift into the old combat forms, precisely timed drills ingrained into his bodies. the first few times he does this, his minders are bemused more than anything, but then one day he happens to have a stick in hand to use as a mock-sword

then every time he starts to slip away into that meditative trance, hands reach out to stop him and hold him in place. ‘there’s no need to fight here, maitimo,’ an elf he knew before the unchaining tells him ever so gently. ‘you’re safe now’

... they say that, but maedhros’ nightmares keep getting worse

it’s like that with everything that makes the valinoreans uncomfortable. whenever they try to speak of their time in beleriand, no matter what they say, they’re told that oh, they know it was hard, but it’s all over now and they don’t have to dwell on it

but even after they’ve spent years in paradise, maedhros and maglor still won’t let go and allow themselves to heal

they just can’t come to terms with the truth of their ordeal

the narrative the valinoreans have constructed erases all of the bright spots, but it also bleaches out the true darkness

certainly they did horrible things, but did they really have a choice? in such a harsh world, they always had to be on guard, lest they themselves be killed. these poor boys never meant to harm anyone, but their father’s cruel madness and the painful chains of their oath and the vileness of beleriand forced them into atrocities they never wanted to commit

(surely the monsters the sindar spoke of wouldn’t cry. they wouldn’t lose themselves in waking nightmares or curl up shivering in well-hidden closets, they wouldn’t jump away from a casual touch or watch every new person like they might be a threat. they wouldn’t convince themselves the children they stole were happy, or talk to the shade of a dead kinsman they abandoned. surely they wouldn’t. surely)

(because if they are, and they’ve let a couple of orcs loose into the royal palace...)

(maglor and maedhros’ movements are pretty restricted. this is mostly for their own protection, but it’s partially - well, just in case. just in case)

this rankles at maedhros, though he tries not to show it. terrible they might have been, but his choices were his own

he was a warlord, he was a king. he expected to be hated for the things he had done. he didn’t expect to be pitied. he didn’t expect to be dismissed

sometimes, when he’s surrounded by people earnestly telling him that he’s not a bad person, he never was, it was all pressure from his father and the oath, he wants to scream that he chose to attack sirion because he was so, so tired of diplomatically dancing around problems he knew he could solve with his blade

but he stops himself, always. he knows how much what little freedom they do have is based on them not being a threat

and he will not wash this peaceful, innocent land in blood. he’ll kill himself first

maglor has lost all such scruples

it’s not often, but when they’re behaving themselves and no one who’s likely to take offense is in town, the brothers get taken out to court events

they paint makeup over their scars (which still won’t heal, everyone is concerned by the implications of this) dress them up in finery, string them with jewels, and show off how well they’re doing

(even if maedhros rarely says anything, and they never leave each other’s side)

tonight, it’s a feast. a minor celebration, nothing too crowded, nothing too loud. there’s revels and merrymaking and all kinds of fun

and after the food has been cleared away, there’s music

would his nephew like to play something, finarfin asks. it’s hard to tell if it’s a request or a politely phrased order

maglor decides he doesn’t have the patience to be taken aside and tell how much everyone wanted to hear his music, and accepts

finarfin smiles kindly. he’s thinking about how maglor’s minders have been talking about how he’s finally stopped trying to sing depressing or horrifying songs and how his voice grows more melodious by the day

maglor is thinking about how they won’t even let him sing about his wife. he wrote no odes to her beauty or her skill in the forge, but he sang ballads about the swiftness of her spear and her laughter after a battle

none of which the valinoreans want to hear. they want to pretend that love never existed, that there could be any joy found in darkness, that she’s at all worth remembering -

he gets up to play, and launches into the most vicious, most hopeless, most painful part of the noldolantë

they try to stop him, but he’s the greatest warsinger the world has ever seen, he’s sung with blood in his lungs over the roaring of dragons, there’s little they can do to block out everything they’re trying to ignore. he wails defeat and death and grief and death and despair and death

when they finally manage to knock him out, their whole petty festival in tatters, shock on their faces, tears streaming from their eyes, all he can think is that if they understand now, even a little, it’ll have been worth it

for the first time, but not the last, he wakes up in a cell

finarfin comes to visit, and starts giving a very disappointed lecture maglor is in no mood to hear. instead he just snarls that nothing they’ve been doing is helping him at all, and he’s so sick of false sympathy and no one listening to what his actual problems are

finarfin shuts his eyes, says ‘i’m sorry to hear you feel that way’ and leaves

a few days later he wakes up with a collar around his neck

it’s demeaning, but he gets released that morning, so he rolls with it. he gets told to never do that ever again, first by his minders and then by maedhros

his minders he nods at until they leave him alone. maedhros he snarks back at that it’s not like he’s doing anything to improve their condition

only he can’t

the words don’t just freeze in his throat, they can’t even form in his mind. what’s happening, he can’t say. what did you do to me, he can’t say. he can’t even scream

as maglor is clutching at his neck (he can’t get it off he can’t get it off) and all the colour is draining out of maedhros’ face, the minder in the room smiles

‘see? this way you’ll stop making yourself and everyone around you miserable. you can still talk about happy things -’

‘they did this in angband!’ maedhros roars, a statement that provokes his first actual fight with their minders. he’s harder to pin down than maglor. bigger

but their caretakers are becoming annoyed with the brothers’ obstinate refusal to let themselves get better. they may be content to wallow in the misery of their past, but inflicting it on others is a step too far

they clearly aren’t going to move any further down the road to recovery on their own volition, so it’s become clear they need a gentle push. is it a little distasteful? yes, but such things are sometimes necessary in medicine

the bright cheerful princes they will be again will thank them for it

oh god how did this end up so long. the last one should be shorter, it’s mostly clearing up some loose ends. why did i write this

#maedhros #maglor #homecoming au #my terrible fic #finarfin #noldor #late stage feanorians #abuse //#mental health issues ///#suicide mention //#gaslighting //#eeeeeeeeesh #i am not sure what i was trying to get across actually comes across in this #i ran out of unova pokedex before i ran out of fic #(the long one from b2w2. no i'm not explaining that)#it is three am!#and i'm not trying to start anything with that section about how the noldor minimise the feanorians' deeds #other people have their headcanons and that's cool. i have mine #i don't see them as 'entirely evil' (whatever that means) but i have felt like my own imperfections mean i don't deserve help before #... can you tell this is a vent fic yet #mags gets more focus because mags is the character i project onto #i've thought about him more; i have a more solid grasp of what i think his character is #'s why i got nelyo in on this. they're the creme de la creme at bad shit happening to maedhros and i wanted someone to cover his corner #this au is awful why am i writing it

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alexandralyman · 4 years

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Summary: A Hook/Emma angel/demon AU. They hide in plain sight, the servants of heaven and hell. The angels and the demons, who can save your soul or damn it. They stand on opposite sides, they are the bringers of light and the agents of darkness, they are enemies in an eternal war, but what happens when an angel and a demon are inexplicably drawn to each other?

Read on FF.net here or on AO3 here

Part Twenty-Four

The Sistine Chapel - May 6, 1527

The long train of her gown made a faint whispering sound against the floor as she glided the length of the chapel, the heavy gold satin rippling and flowing in waves over the fine marble and intricately laid mosaics. They would have been a showpiece in any other cathedral, but here they paled in comparison to the splendour of a thousand years' worth of papal wealth that surrounded them. A few lanterns were still lit in the niches and alcoves set into the walls but the light was dying, flickering and growing even more dim with each step she took further and further into the shadowed heart of Christendom. It was in this place where a new pope rose upon the death of the old, crowned and gowned and bequeathed the Keys to the Kingdom as he ascended upon Saint Peter's seat.

The ancient throne lay empty and abandoned on this night.

Her hair was a loose spill down her back and she wore no hood or veil to conceal it, normally an unthinkable breach of protocol for a woman entering the sacred site and a grave offence to the Church. But there was no one left to bar her entry, not that any mortal man could actually stop her from passing through any door to any room in this place, where even the holiest of relics, the priceless texts of scripture and verse, the sacred hearts of saints, the swords carried into battle during the Crusades, all paled in comparison to her.

Not a single candle was left burning by the altar where a figure was just visible in the gloom, garbed as a monk in sober dark robes. But he was no more a lowly cleric labouring anonymously in the depths of the Vatican in his humble attire than she was a wealthy Roman noblewoman in her rich gown and while her head might be uncovered, it was far from bare. She wore her own diadem above her brow, it was made not of gold or gems, but of an unbroken circle of Heavenly light. Divine radiance illuminated her path while the astonishing frescos that the Florentine master, Michelangelo, had laboured over for the better part of a decade looked down from the ceiling above, now silent witnesses left behind when everyone else had fled.

Almost.

"His Holiness has left in the company of the Swiss Guard and the Emperor's army is about to breach the walls. Rome will fall to the wolves and it will fall tonight, it's too late to stop it now."

Emma delivered the news to the figure's back, as still as any of the painted prophets and saints that surrounded them. For several long moments he didn't move and if it was anyone else she would have thought he didn't hear her. But he heard everything, and when he finally turned the hood of his monkish robe fell back to reveal one who was both prophet and saint, known by many names and titles in different languages and traditions. In the chronicles of noble knights seeking the glory of the Holy Grail he was the mysterious and powerful Merlin, possessor of magic and esoteric knowledge beyond that of mortal men. In truth, he was a Prince of Heaven in his own right, an Archangelus, the patron of healers, lovers, and guardian angels and one of the highest ranked of the Blessed Ones along with his brothers Michael and Gabriel.

The Archangel Raphael.

Like all angels he was captivating to look at, with a face that Michelangelo would have given his own soul to capture in marble. Strong brows, full lips, and large, liquid eyes that were fixed firmly at some point in the distance before his attention turned to her. Pleas for salvation were echoing in the back of Emma's mind like a thousand hands all reaching out from the shadows to clutch at her train, while the Pope had been spirited away to safety many innocent souls had been left behind, unarmed and completely defenceless against the rampaging horde of soldiers about to descend upon them.

Raphael spoke in a low voice as his gaze drifted again, to the shadows that veiled the splendor around them and grew more with each passing moment. "Yes," he exhaled, and painted heads turned as his breath gave the little figures miraculous life. "They will come from the north...an army sent to expand an empire and lay waste to all who stand in the way...cities fall one by one and there will be death and destruction and war."

An exasperated huff escaped her lips. "Will be? War is already here!"

He shook his own head, his hair as close-cropped as any monk's in place of the flowing locks usually depicted in the many portrayals of him that adorned chapel walls and illuminated texts. The shapeless robes stirred about his legs, lifted by a cool breeze that swept through the nave and made the lanterns flicker and the frescos cower. The light dimmed even more with it and didn't recover, more faint, misty glow now than illumination.

"No, I don't mean this. What is to happen tonight will fade from history and be all but forgotten within a generation, though the effects will linger. This is not war, this is two mules eyeing each other balefully over the same pile of hay.

Only an angel would openly refer to the two most powerful men in Europe, the Supreme Pontiff Clement VII, who held dominion over all Catholic souls, and the Holy Roman Emperor Charles V, who ruled most of the land those souls resided on, as nothing more than humble pack animals fighting over a mouthful of feed. But the description was an apt one, it was their mutual stubbornness and refusal to cede any ground that had led to an army the Emperor could no longer control poised to lay waste to everything in its path and the Pope abandoning Saint Peter's throne to flee like a thief in the night instead.

"Charles and Clement may be nothing more than mules, but even a mule's kick can be fatal," Emma argued back. "And when a Hapsburg aims for a Medici, he doesn't just strike his rival. Tell the people of Rome that this is not war when they're burned from their homes and slaughtered without mercy in the street."

Raphael sighed and statues wept. "His Majesty and His Holiness are not the only ones possessed of an excess of stubborness. Now is not the time for debate about the constitution of war, it's long past time for you to go home, beata Emma. The army is not the only wolf howling at the gates tonight."

Emma lifted her chin, not giving quarter even to an Archangel. "And the innocents will suffer all the more for it."

His voice was firm and the warning in his tone was clearer than any bell. "The darkness will always seek to snuff out the light, in every form. Always. We can't save them all, Emma, and we are not meant to. He gave them the freedom of their own will be they prince or peasant, and as such they are capable of so much beauty and so much ugliness in equal measure. That potential they all hold within is His gift to mankind and we must allow them to choose their own path. You can not interfere in this mortal quarrel and if you stay, it is inevitable that the darkness will seek to find you."

She knew what would follow the soldiers in once they descended like locusts from the plagues of old and began to pillage the city. Even in the very heart of the Vatican itself she could sense them faintly in the distance, just beyond the seven hills.

Waiting.

Damnate Infernum.

The Damned of Hell.

"I do not fear the darkness."

Her voice didn't rouse the frescos or move the carvings to tears as his did, but her voice was steady and her shoulders were squared back in her elegant gown. She carried no sword, no heaven-forged blade like the one that had made it into legend alongside Raphael's tenure as Merlin appeared in her hand with which to repel back a demonic horde, but she couldn't leave, not when so many voices were out there and calling to her with their pleas for salvation.

"You do," the Archangel intoned with a raise of his brow. "Oh, you are brave and your heart is pure, but no one, not even an angel, is immune to fear."

He smiled then, a breathtaking sight that eclipsed even the glory of the grandeur that surrounded them. Emma felt her own lips lift in response and the candles that had been left unattended at the altar all ignited, filling the air around them with the scent of beeswax and sweet oil. Raphael's smile turned melancholy, his pupils twin golden flames from the reflections but also flickering with something else, beyond what Emma herself could see. The Merlin of tale was a prophet and that wasn't the fanciful imaginings of a twelfth-century cleric, Raphael had the divine gift of prophecy as all the Archangels did and in truth, Emma was afraid to ask what he saw when he looked at her now.

Another breath of wind swept through the chapel, cold, and decidedly unnatural. It licked a shiver down her spine and the candles went out again from the force of it, wisps of dark smoke curling up to the ceiling in serpentine ribbons. All save for one long, pale taper that continued to burn alone in defiance of the attempt to snuff it out. Raphael looked at it for a long moment and then he nodded once, as if in acknowledgement.

"A single light remains. If you truly wish to stay through what is to come, I won't forbid it. But Emma, you must keep in mind that the most divine of gifts can also become the heaviest of burdens. To listen and stay silent is not easy, you can find yourself longing not to hear them at all when you can't answer. Perhaps even for eternity."

She couldn't imagine even considering such a notion, one that trod so dangerously close to a path that led away from Heaven and only a few had chosen to follow since He first separated the light from the darkness as painted above.

"Is your gift a burden, beatus Raphael?"

His handsome face shifted, becoming softer and more wistful at the question. "My gift is wonderful. And terrible. I see such marvels to come, each more astonishing than the last as they continue to embrace art and science and learning, even when they stumble along the way. Then there are the horrors that have yet to be as well, when they fall into ignorance and loathing. But that is the future and as pleasant as it might have been to be gifted with visions of only the former and not the latter, without both, I would be blind in one eye."

With that, he made a motion with his hand and the candle that still burned lifted from the altar on unseen wings, crossing the bit of distance to float between his cupped palms. The little flame grew even stronger and for a moment that was an eternity unto itself the whole chapel blazed with light. Frescos acted out their stories in miniature, Passion Plays in pigment and plaster. The First Man reached to his Creator, the waters rose as the Flood washed over the banks and the Serpent hissed in triumph as the Forbidden Fruit was consumed and Man fell from grace.

Raphael offered the taper to her and she accepted it, his hands closing over hers so they both formed the ancient gesture of prayer. When he pulled away the flame returned to nothing more than a tiny spark, the painted figures were still and his eyes no longer reflected that which fate had hidden to all but him.

"They will follow you by this light, beata Emma."

She dipped her chin. "Gratias tibi ago."

The Archangel Raphael stepped back and folded his hands solemnly in his sleeves. A papal audience would conclude with the kissing of the fisherman's ring, but angels wore no jewelry. Her own fingers were bare of any adornment despite the richness of her attire. Still, she recognized she was being dismissed and she turned, satin gown rustling with the movement.

The candle illuminated the path back out of the chapel and no more, saints had retreated into shadows and all that remained of the dazzling splendor was a solitary angel. A glance back revealed what she already knew, Raphael was gone and she was alone.

It had already begun, Emma could hear the hue and cry quickly spreading across the city in advance of the army. She picked up her skirts and started to run, flying not with her wings but on her faith instead, trusting that it would take her where they would find her, whoever *they* were.

When she reached the closest set of doors that led outside they opened into the darkness of the night, the sky above indistinguishable from the ground below even with the candle in her hand burning bright. The space between the ornately carved wood gaped like a maw, and she could smell the smoke in the distance as her own prophecy came true and the fires were lit.

Rome had fallen.

When she reached the threshold the finely laid mosaics abruptly stopped, giving way to the drop where the Pope would slowly descend to the cheers of the waiting masses come to pay him homage in His name. Adoration had turned to debasement, cheers to screams, and as the floor fell away from beneath her feet Emma didn't ascend.

She leapt straight into the storm instead.

Lower Saxony, Germany, 1943

Bright sunshine shone down on the tall stone walls of the medieval Schloss, an imposing structure that dominated both the surrounding countryside of forests and fields and the picture postcard village nestled in the valley below, all nearly unchanged from how it must have looked centuries ago when the Hapsburgs still ruled this part of the world with absolute power not as mere kings like in France and England, but as emperors anointed by Rome.

Killian stepped out of his car and tilted his head back to take it all in, squinting into the light. It really was like stepping back in time, his was the only vehicle he'd seen on the winding road that connected castle and village and, unlike in every other city and town across Germany, there was no hint of the current turmoil to be seen or heard. No armed checkpoints on the roads, no soldiers posted at the town hall, not even the distant roar of the Luftwaffe in the sky overhead that was ever present now in even the most remote provinces far from the hive of furious activity that was Berlin. It would be curious, if Killian didn't already know exactly who was currently residing behind the ancient walls, someone who was far older and had the power to keep everything that was going on at bay.

For now, at least.

Inside, heavy damask curtains were drawn tight across every window and he was plunged directly into the darkness upon entering what was almost certainly enemy territory. It would have been disconcerting to anyone else, but Killian could see perfectly in the dark and his eyes adjusted at once with a flash of crimson to take in the artwork that crammed every inch of the walls in ornate frames. Far from an unusual sight in a castle, but these weren't the expected solemn-faced portraits of family scions or middling landscapes by unimportant artists like the one Emma had been so enamoured with before the French decided to give their entire aristocracy the same treatment as Herod gave to John the Baptist. Killian recognized the unmistakable hand of Titian in a red-haired siren and Caravaggio's signature chiaroscuro in the depiction of a saint, there was a Rembrandt that, as far as he knew, belonged to the Dutch royal family, currently exiled in Canada, and a half-finished sketch that he would wager a literal king's ransom was a Da Vinci. It was a veritable Aladdin's cave of priceless treasures, and none of it was owned by the noble family who had given their name to both the Schloss and the village and were now conspicuous by their absence. War had redrawn the European borders once again and, like the sacking of Rome by another German army four centuries prior, spoils had been taken and even more innocent blood was spilled. As Damnate Infernum, a Demon of Hell and corruptor of human souls Killian had seen it all before, he'd been standing on the hill when the city gates were finally breached on that May eve long ago and the holy city itself started to burn, but this conflagration was the closest he'd ever felt to the End of Days and the war destined to eclipse all others.

The Final Battle.

The artistic splendor was marred by the presence of an imp, lounging on an antique chaise in an insolent sprawl with one leg slung over the back and a grin that revealed a mouth packed with too many teeth.

Killian detested imps.

"Corruptor," the lesser demon practically purred, drawing the title out like it was a juicy treat. "What business have you with the illustrious Dark One? Have you come to make a deal?"

He would sooner be tortured by the Inquisition again than make a deal with Rumpelstiltskin and he bared his own teeth at the imp, white and far sharper than they looked.

"Tell your master that I'm here to speak with him, and that he needs to keep his pets on a tighter leash. I've heard what you've been up to when he lets you run loose. Bad form, even for an imp."

The rebuke in his voice made the imp's head snap back hard against the padded velvet, but instead of being chastised, it let out a high-pitched giggle that quickly melted into an obscene moan.

"Do it again!"

Killian grit his teeth, trying to keep his hellish temper in check. As much as he would have liked to teach the imp a painful lesson in the proper amount of deference owed to a higher demon, he was here for something far more important and anything else was a distraction.

Besides, the infernal creature would probably enjoy it.

"Fetch. Your. Master," he repeated, each word snapping in the air like the crack of a whip.

The imp stood and gave a mocking salute, clicking its heels together and bending its knees like a ballerina doing a plié. Killian didn't return the gesture, despite the uniform he was currently wearing.

"Aye, aye, Kapitän."

He felt his eyes narrow at that as the imp disappeared down the hall, dancing and whistling a jaunty tune through those piranha teeth as it went. The sound seemed to echo long after the imp was gone until Killian realized he was hearing someone else instead, his head turning in the direction it was coming from and following on silent feet until he found the source.

A pair of narrow doors stood ajar with a sliver of light peeking out and through the gap he saw that it was the castle's library, tall stacks rising right to the ceiling and filled cheek by jowl with leather-bound books. He gave the door the tiniest of nudges and it swung open fully, revealing that the curtains were tied back in heavy swags unlike in the other rooms he had passed, letting in the sun. The reason why quickly became obvious, there was a ladder attached to the bookcases to allow access to the higher shelves and perched on it was a soman, her back to him as she dusted along a row of books and hummed to herself in a sweet voice. Unlike the imp she was mortal, entirely human, her petite figure clad in a modest blue dress and her chestnut hair falling down her back in thick curls. Killian supposed she was Rumpelstiltskin's chambermaid, but strangely for someone in a demon's employ there wasn't a whiff of corruption about her. As one whose entire purpose was to corrupt and defile he could always detect it, to him it was like the scent of overripe fruit about to spoil. It clung indelibly to those falling away from the Light as their souls blackened and shrivelled like the half-eaten apple left behind in the Garden, so perfect and unblemished on the Tree until temptation proved too much for Mankind to resist. Whoever the woman was, she was still innocent, and curiosity had time taking a step closer because he was never one to resist temptation in any form.

The doors both slammed shut in his face before he could cross the threshold, with enough force to make his teeth rattle and the sweet humming was abruptly cut off, replaced by the harsh scrape of a lock being turned.

"Corruptor."

His demonic title was spoken from behind him in an oily voice and Killian turned smoothly on his booted heel, away from the library and the woman now locked within.

"Dealmaker," he acknowledged.

Rumpelstiltskin's thin lips went even thinner, but he couldn't fault Killian for addressing him in kind and not by his preferred moniker. He was attired in current fashion from the knife's-edge part in his hair down to his two-tone loafers, but he still carried the silver-tipped cane that Killian remembered from Paris, in the midst of another time and another war. The handle was shaped like a reptile's head, fitting for an ancient demon with such a cold-blooded disposition. The ebony tip rapped sharply against the floor when he turned and started to walk back down the hall without another word, not bothering to check if Killian followed. The dealmaker was more arrogant than any king in his newly acquired castle, and Killian rolled his eyes behind the self-styled Dark One's back before falling reluctantly into step to the metronome of the cane against the polished stone, each strike echoing loudly in the silence.

More incredible art adorned the walls on either side of them, one long corridor was completely lined in fourteenth-century tapestries that were somewhat faded with age but remarkably intact, depicting a typical medieval hunt. Killian had participated in his fair share of them under his many different noble aliases, he immediately recognized the scenes. The elusive quarry managed to evade the hunting party for several panels, leaping through glens and peeping defiantely at them through a copse of trees just beyond their reach. It almost slipped away, but the pursuers were determined and the freedom of the forest was fleeting, as the tiny woven arrows landed straight and true at the end.

Rumpelstiltskin came to a halt by another pair of doors where the imp was waiting, bowing like a well-trained footmen when he approached, fawning and obsequious now in the master's direct presence instead of mocking and impertinent. Rumpelstiltskin lifted the tip of the cane off the floor and used it to raise the imp's chin, forcing the creature's head back at what on anyone else would be an unnatural angle.

"Wait for me outside the library. It's currently locked, and it stays that way."

The order was clear and the imp ran off again, not bothering with any theatrics this time to scuttle away like a cockroach instead. Killian watched it scurry down the hall, his interest piqued even more while Rumpelstiltskin entered what looked like an ordinary sitting room. Tufted chairs, a wireless in a walnut case, and a china tea set left on a side table, nothing unexpected at first glance. A closer look told a slightly different story, there was a copy of the current evening edition of the London Telegraph folded next to the flowered cups, even though it wouldn't be out for another two hours across the Channel. There was no picture of Der Führer hung in place of pride or copy of his odious book on display as there were in every patriotic German household, and even ensconced as he was deep within the dark heart of the Glorious Reich, Killian suspected that Rumpelstiltskin had his long, grasping fingers stuck in all sorts of pies.

"Did the local count bargain away both his Schloss and das Mädchen?"

Killian sat down in the tallest chair without waiting for an invitation, pulling out a silver cigarette case engraved with his monogram and flicking it open. He lit one without a match, inhaling deep and blowing out not a mere smoke ring, but a smoke serpent that rose in the air and hissed right in the other demon's face until it dissipated from an equal flick of Rumpelstiltskin's finger, his expression clearly unimpressed by the showy display.

"She made her own deal with me and is therefore off limits to you, Corruptor," he said. "Don't think I've forgotten the last time you interfered in my affairs."

Killian hadn't forgotten it either, and he couldn't say he felt any remorse for assisting the courtesan Maleficent settle her affairs behind Rumpelstilskin's back. The letter she had written had been delivered safe to her daughter while the daughter's husband was away from the house and unable to confiscate it, Killian had made sure of that. It hadn't been a deal, not exactly, just an offer made to give the woman a bit of comfort with none of his usual strings attached because he felt like being magnanimous. Besides, he'd always enjoyed Maleficent's elegant salons. He took another drag on his cigarette and did his best to look contrite, even though they both knew it was completely insincere.

"Speaking of which," Rumpelstiltskin continued, as if the thought had just occurred to him, "what happened to that angel you were so damn adamant about? I heard rumours that an angel finally smited that irritating succubus Zelena in Paris and yet by some miracle you appear to have walked away from that encounter completely unscathed. How curious."

Killian hadn't forgotten the Dark One's interest in his angel either, an interest he had no intention of encouraging. Emma hadn't fallen, not yet, and until she did and he could claim her openly for his own, she was fair game to any demon that crossed her path. He was certain that he was the only one who could seduce her, but the others would be all too eager to attack a Blessed One and try to destroy her. Including the demon who sat across from him now.

He needed to tread very carefully.

"She flew beyond my grasp," he said, blowing out another lungful of smoke that turned into an image of Zelena's face, rendered as delicately as any of the paintings on display. Her mouth split open in a silent pantomime of her final, agonized scream when another breath of smoke spilled over it just as the holy water had in life. "Zelena thought she could take an angel on herself, if she had stayed on her back where she belonged and out of my way, then maybe she wouldn't have ended up as nothing more than effluent in the Paris sewers alongside the contents of every royal bowel loosened by the steel kiss of Madame Guillotine. But I can't say I mourned her untimely passing, not after she spoiled my plans and let the angel escape."

Zelena's image finally melted away just like the succubus herself when he stubbed the cigarette out into a crystal ashtray, leaving behind a smear of ash as dark and thick as her infernal blood had been when it spilled over the blade of his iron knife. Rumpelstiltskin's gaze followed the movement, unblinking even through the eye-watering haze of smoke that now filled the room.

"Indeed. Perhaps you'll have another bite at that particular apple, one day. Although it's already been what, a hundred and fifty years? Taking the definition of eternity rather literally, aren't we now?"

Killian knew it was a jab at his apparent failure and he let his expression twist into a scowl. Little did the Dark One know of all the nights since then when he'd succeeded in "capturing" Emma, her wrists pinned fast by his grasp that could so easily become shackles from which she'd never escape, caging her with his body while she was wound in his sheets, close, so close to surrendering to him fully and not just to his carnal temptation. He'd savour his other victories privately until then, how he'd coaxed out her name the night they met, worked to gain her trust over the centuries, her confession that she could hear him, each far more valuable and rarer than any painting or tapestry Rumpelstiltskin could acquire.

He'd get what he wanted, in the end. Patience might be a virtue, but he was willing to be virtuous for this, and he'd rub Rumpelstiltskin's nose right in his success whether it took ten years or a hundred. Losing a little face now was a small price to pay.

Turn the other cheek, as it were.

"I'm sure it didn't take you nearly as long to accumulate your little treasure trove, did it, Dark One? And all strictly for the glory of the new German empire, I'm sure."

There was a flash of amusement on Rumpelstiltskin's face at the sarcasm in Killian's tone.

"I've held up my end of all the bargains I've made on behalf of the empire. What you see here are merely a few trinkets kept for my private collection."

Killian thought that "looted" was probably a more apt description than "kept" for the fortune crammed onto the walls, but he didn't say it out loud. And he was the one who'd once been called a pirate. Still, the dealmaker's penchant for trinkets was the whole reason why he'd come and he made a photograph appear, held delicately between his fingers like the cigarette before he set it on the table and slid it over.

"Is this one of your new acquisitions like the artwork and the decorative young girl, perhaps?"

The image was grainy, a faded sepia and foxed at the edges from age. Rumpelstiltskin looked down at it and while his expression didn't change the blue haze in the air from the cigarette smoke rippled around him, like a stone dropped in a still pond.

"It's called the White Hilt," Killian began, watching the other demon carefully as he spoke, "among other names, and was said to have been made from a remnant of the sword wielded by the angel who drove the First Man and First Woman from the Garden, where it was cleaved in two by their sin."

While the photograph was badly faded, the object pictured was still recognizable and had even retained a bit of gloss, forever reflecting the flash that had gone off when the image was captured for posterity. It was a blade, long and narrow and oddly shaped. Both sides were curved several times along the edge, so that it resembled less of a knife and more like a lick of flame made metal. Despite the name the actual hilt wasn't white, it was so dark in the picture that it was probably black or nearly to it, and was studded with what looked like a large jewel at the top.

"There was legends about it, like those about the Holy Grail and the Spear of Destiny, but they fell out of fashion and out of history and only a few scholars have even heard of the White Hilt now, including those that Der Führer has combing every pilfered record he can get his hands on thanks to his new obsession, the occult sciences."

Rumpelstiltskin gave him a contemptuous look. "Spare me the lesson, I'm far more versed in these tales than you, Corruptor. More than one soul has tried to barter with me for holy relics, thinking it will bring them power and glory. A blade forged from Heavenly light is an attractive idea, especially to one who has styled himself a Saviour of the people."

"While he exterminates those who don't fit his definition of the term," Killian added.

It wasn't spoken of openly, but people knew where their absent neighbours had gone. Yellow stars were left behind on the lintels of empty houses, paint flaking away in the elements and the sin cut deeper than any knife.

The other demon lifted one shoulder in a dismissive shrug. "Sieg Heil."

As before, Killian didn't return the sentiment. He gestured to the photograph instead. "This was taken sometime before the Great War, in this very castle."

He flipped it over and revealed the writing on the back, done in an old, copperplate hand. There were only three lines, the name of the Schloss they were currently sitting in, an illegible signature, and below them both was a word written first in German, and then, perhaps more tellingly, in Latin.

Dagger

Rumpelstiltskin eyed his uniform, one that gave him near absolute authority in the name of the would-be king. "I suppose you've come here as the knight on a noble quest?" he asked, tone still laced with contempt. "Shall I address you as Sir Killian instead of Corruptor then, collecting shiny tribute for your new master?"

Killian ignored that jab as well and focused on what the dealmaker might have just accidently let slip instead.

"So it is here?"

He met Rumpelstiltskin's gaze head on across the table. It was like staring into a well, his eyes were fathomless black depths that seemed to ripple from deep within. A mortal soul would fear what lurked unseen at the bottom and glance away from it, as Damnate Infernum in his own right, with power far beyond what the rank on his collar granted him, Killian didn't blink.

When Rumpelstiltskin spoke again it was through teeth gone serrated as a crocodile's. "I don't answer to you. Or to Der Führer. You think I'm somehow unaware of his more esoteric interests and attempts to collect such objects? Napoleon went to Egypt in search of Biblical treasures to strengthen his laughable claim, Charles V sent his troops to Rome to seize Saint Peter's throne, and now Adolf Hitler seeks a broken sword with which to rule the world. An emperor in all but name, and like those who came before him, doomed to inevitable failure. Just as you've failed in your pathetic attempt to intimidate me."

He started to rise from his seat then, cane in one hand and clear dismissal in his voice. "You can see yourself out now, Corruptor."

Killian remained where he was, idly examining his rings. The large, square cut ruby that he'd owned for centuries sat on his finger and winked up at him, he refused to don the honours that went with the uniform and wore his favourite pieces in their place instead. He rubbed his thumb over it and admired the fire within before rolling his wrist and snapping his fingers without looking up.

"Even in this modern world, I find that some still cling rather stubbornly to the old ways, don't you, Dealmaker? Especially those who used to hold power. They still style themselves with the titles they lost in the last war in the hope they'll regain them one day, prince, duke, count, and they still arrange marriages for their children. Marriage is a sacrament, and there is nothing more sacred to these people than money."

Rumpelstiltskin snatched up the papers that had appeared on the desk at Killian's command, his face a mask of utter fury as he scanned them and obviously realized his error. The marriage contract was clear, the bride's wealthy family had provided a considerable dowry to the impoverished but noble groom, on the condition that she be granted sole ownership of his ancestral seat and all the contents within upon the wedding, a hedge against a future divorce. Furnishings, carpets, silverware, there was a complete inventory right down to the number of teaspoons.

Including; "an antique jewelled dagger of unknown provenance."

"I confess I may lack your level of expertise," Killian continued, acting as innocent as a virgin at Mass, "but I do know that you can't put up what doesn't belong to you as collateral. Your contract was only with the husband. Mine is with the wife."

Her signature was next to Killian's own on the document the Dark One now held, granting him possession of the castle and surrounding estate. Marriage was a sacrament, and adultery was his favourite sin. He lit another cigarette from his silver case, filled as much with smug satisfaction at having pulled the rug out from under Rumpelstiltskin as the smoke he drew into his lungs. Another demon couldn't interfere directly once a bargain was struck and they both knew it. But Killian hadn't, since the deal was never valid to begin with. "Good faith" was not a doctrine demons followed, and Rumpelstiltskin had no choice but to accept that his own carefully wrought deal was now completely null and void.

"You don't answer to me, that's true. But you do answer to the Fallen One, so if you care to argue this further we can always take this little disagreement to him for a final ruling, if you desire."

The papers fluttered back down and spread across the table in an untidy heap while Rumpelstiltskin's dark gaze went sharper than any dagger. Despite his easy posture with the cigarette dangling loosely between his fingers, Killian was inwardly as tense as a bowstring. They were both bound by the same rules that called for the other demon to acquiesce, however unwilling he was to do so, but he looked to be on the verge of breaking those rules completely and refusing to relinquish his claim. If he did it would come at a considerable cost, and Killian's entire plan hinged on the Dark One being unwilling to pay it.

"That's twice," he said at last. "Believe me, there won't be a third time."

With that, Rumpelstiltskin lifted his cane and slammed it back down on the floor. The sound was like the strike of a match flaring to life, only magnified a thousandfold and everything in the room rattled from the force of it. For a split second Killian could see what lay beneath the unassuming countenance that had slithered unnoticed and forgotten throughout history for so long, the Beast without his human form to conceal him. He braced himself for the attack that was sure to follow, fingers tightening on the arm of the chair and ready to leap up and fling the lit cigarette right into the demon's face.

It never came. The Dark One was gone instead.

His boots made no sound when he stood up from the chair and walked around the table, the tip of the cigarette flaring crimson as he took another deep inhale. A chasm had opened in the floor like a sinkhole, right where the cane had struck. Killian crouched down to examine it, taking a final drag before flicking the cigarette into the hole and watching it fall end over end until it was swallowed up by the darkness. The chasm was deep, impossibly so, and for a moment he wondered if Rumpelstiltskin had decided to appeal to Lucifer after all and returned to Infernum itself to do so, as the Fallen One rarely left his kingdom below. He waited a few moments, but there was no summons under his skin that compelled him to follow and a check of the castle revealed that most of the treasures had been removed as well. The walls where the tapestries had hung were bare, the exquisite paintings were gone, furniture was draped in dusty cloths and there was an air of disuse and neglect as if everything had been shut away and left untouched for months. A check of the hall outside the library revealed the imp was nowhere to be found, and now that he'd established himself as master the door opened as soon as Killian touched the knob.

It was empty.

Not just the maid, a lot of the books had vanished alongside her. There were holes on the shelves that hadn't been there before and a few of the ones left behind had toppled over completely without the others to hold them in place. Rumpelstiltskin had withdrawn in silent acknowledgement that he'd been outmaneuvered, but he'd obviously taken everything from his other deals along with him. Using that much power at once could nearly cripple a demon, even one as powerful as the dealmaker.

When he returned to the sitting room he saw the rent in the floor had sealed itself back up and all that remained where it had been was a small black mark, perfectly round, left by the tip of the cane. His shoulders dropped with relief under the tailored wool of his jacket that his gamble had paid off, in truth, Killian hadn't wanted to involve the Fallen One either and the invocation of his authority had been a bluff.

The edge of the photograph peeked out from underneath a page of dry German legalese, Killian picked it up and read the words on the back again. If the White Hilt truly existed, then it was a holy relic of the highest order and one he would not allow to fall into Nazi hands. That madman in Berlin could make do with the ramblings of false prophets and the bones of apocryphal saints to fuel his insane crusade, anything genuine was exceedingly rare and he had his own reasons for searching such objects out, reasons he didn't share with those who only thought the commanded him. Just as it had the last time he'd been part of a German army, it was to serve his own purposes and not the other way around.

"Find it."

He didn't have any imps at his disposal so he sent his shadow to begin the search instead. The dark shape moved along the wall of its own volition and sank into the stone like water sinking into the sand, if the dagger was secreted somewhere within the Schloss then he'd find it no matter how well it was hidden. If it turned out to be a medieval copy then he'd return with it to the capital and graciously accept the Reich's accolades, but if it was real, then his coded dispatch would report that the legend of a blade forged from a sword once wielded by a holy angel was just that, a legend, and nothing more.

Night had fallen by the time Killian went outside for some air, frustrated by what appeared to be a fruitless search. There was no jewelled dagger anywhere to be found and he couldn't sense the presence of anything holy. He'd known the odds were exceedingly slim to begin with, and yet for some reason a part of him had believed that not only did the White Hilt exist, he would find it here. Learning that Rumpelstiltskin had chosen this of all the estates he could have had for a wartime headquarters had only increased that belief, it was too much of a coincidence that the demon who coveted power above all else could be sitting unawares on such a prize.

A single line in an inventory that had been prepared years prior and a photograph even older still. It could be real, or it could be nothing more than a wild goose chase and there was no way to tell without the dagger itself. He'd know immediately, just as he'd known that Emma was an angel. The damned always recognized the divine.

A light appeared high in the sky above and drew his attention up. It wasn't the holy light that had drawn him closer on that night in Rome when war had raged unchecked and the city burned, it was the Luftwaffe, flying on steel wings to rain fire in the form of the bombs dropped nightly across the Channel. A falling star streaking across the heavens with a deafening roar, and as it passed overhead he felt the disturbance in the air even from the ground.

The feeling didn't go away after the plane was gone, if anything it increased, hairs on the back of his neck rising and a prickling under his skin that usually meant one thing. Something else caught his eye, a tiny bit of movement that was nothing but a pale smudge against the deep indigo at first. As it grew closer Killian saw that it was a bird, a dove, with something held in its beak.

Not an olive branch, it was a note, falling straight into his hands while the dove flew away. There was only one who correspond with him in such a fashion, and it wasn't another demon. When he unfolded the square of paper letters appeared as if by magic in gold script, addressed at the top in a familiar hand to, "Damnate."

Killian quickly scanned the lines, his brow creasing with a frown. Once he'd secured control of the castle his plan had been to keep following the trail of the White Hilt if it wasn't there, he had some other leads and records that pointed to where it might have gone and the war was the perfect cover for his pursuit. Now that the Dark One knew of his interest, it was even more important that he maintained his cover and moved as quickly as possible. He wasn't bound to answer the summons he held in his hands, the promise he'd made could easily be broken.

"...as you once agreed to give me safe passage I ask that assistance again of you now…"

"...I need you…"

"...please…"

It was signed at the bottom with a single initial in lieu of a name, E, and he brushed his thumb over it.

His answer was silent to all but her.

Belgian Countryside, 1943

"Someone's coming."

The whispered announcement made everyone freeze for a moment before they hurried to the dusty windows in a flurry of palpable dread, dousing the old gas lamp they'd been using for light and pulling the tattered curtains back to peer out into the gloom on the other side of the glass. Outside it was pitch-black for miles around and silent as a tomb across the barren fields and empty roads that made up the ancient Flemish countryside, with not a soul to be seen nor heard from in days. Or it had been, at least. Now there was a distinctly mechanical hum in the air, quiet and barely audible at first, but growing louder and louder and a collective gasp echoed around the room when the long drive to the abandoned farmhouse where they'd taken refuge suddenly lit up with twin oblong lights. As yellow as the predatory eyes of a serpent poised to strike and moving even more quickly, they were unmistakably headlamps, from a large vehicle that was making its way directly towards them at breakneck speed.

"Soldiers!"

"Germans!"

It was a single cry of alarm that was taken up at once by the rest of the ragged group, white-faced and trembling with both exhaustion and fear. In the shadows Philippe and Richard shared that kind of unguarded embrace that would send them straight to the camps as sexual deviants alongside Isaac and the other Jews who sought shelter under her wings, while the Mother Superior had her arms wrapped comfortingly around little Gretel, as thin and delicate as a baby bird fallen from the nest.

Emma forced herself to her feet despite her own utter fatigue and lurched towards the door, tossing a hurried, "Stay here," over her shoulder as she went.

"Emma, Emma come back!"

"Emma, wait, no, it's too dangerous, you don't know who's out there-"

She heard them, but there was another voice that was even louder and she didn't heed their warnings, already on the sagging porch with her shoes scarcely touching the ground as she practically flew down the steps and flung herself headlong into the path of the oncoming car. The light found her immediately and there was an ear-splitting squeal of metal as the unseen driver behind the wheel slammed on the brakes. Gravel flew from under the tires like shrapnel and the car skidded to a halt scant inches from where she stood, so close that Emma could feel the searing heat from the engine, a shocking contrast against the cooler night air. A door opened and a tall figure emerged, standing just beyond the pool of light with his face hidden under the brim of his hat. His appearance elicited another shriek of fright from behind her when they caught a glimpse of his uniform, the glint of silver on his collar and the armband red as blood. Her little flock hadn't listened and had followed her outside, staying close to their shepherd and bleating in fear like orphaned lambs in the dark. Their presence pulled at her to return while his pushed her back, his damnation attempting to repel away her divinity and she swayed back and forth where she stood, caught between warring instincts until he stepped into the light and there was nothing except him.

"Engel," Killian murmured when she threw herself at him, straight into his arms and burying her face in his shoulder. His voice rumbled through her, equal parts amused and concerned. "Oh blessed one. What have you done now?"

There was a shuffle of footsteps behind her and she felt him stiffen, his attention shifting to the small group she'd guided from the Dutch border and across half of occupied Belgium. Emma knew she should pull herself away and try to come up with an explanation as to why she was embracing what appeared to be a Nazi officer who'd just appeared out of nowhere in a car more suited to a film star than a soldier. It must look like their shepherd had delivered them straight to the wolves instead of the safety she promised and she should step back, reassure them, ease their worry...but her head was too heavy, weighed down with innumerable unanswered prayers that flickered behind her eyes in an endless loop. People were suffering, starving, dying, and it was too much for even her wings to carry. Her fingers curled into the dark wool of his jacket and when they called her name again it seemed to come from very far away. His voice was among them but she couldn't answer, her hold loosening and her knees giving out, buckling like an ancient tree gone hollow with age and unable to withstand the force of the wind any longer.

"Killian."

His name fell from her lips in a whisper and she was falling with it, the hard earth below rushing up to meet her and the heavens above, dark, and devoid of stars.

The demon caught her before she hit the ground.

#cs ff #cs fic #my fic #Between Heaven and Hell

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jadelotusflower · 3 years

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June 2021 Roundup

It's been a month of highs and lows. Every year my city holds a cabaret festival, and I've seen some truly amazing acts over the years - including Lea Salonga, Kristin Chenoweth, and Indina Menzel. This year's Artistic Director was the great Alan Cumming, and although due to covid he didn't quite get to curate the program he wanted to, the opening night Gala was still a highlight, as was Alan's DJ set at the pop-up Club Cumming afterwards, where there was much singing at the top of my lungs and dancing to pop anthems and theatre tunes. At one point Alan, dressed in a onesie and perched on the shoulders of a man wearing only sparkly short shorts, was carried around the dance floor while Circle of Life blared. Reader, I was delighted.

I was also able to see his solo show Alan Cumming Is Not Acting His Age, which was hilarious and damn, he can sing!

As for the low, I was meant to fly to Sydney for the weekend to see Hamilton, a trip I have been looking forward to for almost a year, but had to be cancelled because of a covid outbreak and border closures. The tickets have been rescheduled, but I'm still kind of bummed about it (while completely appreciating the need for covid safety, especially when our vaccine rollout has been completely botched by our incompetent, corrupt federal government)

Anyway.

Reading

The Hundred and One Dalmations (Dodie Smith) - With all the bewilderment over Disney's Cruella, I decided to revisit the original novel which I first read as a kid. It's funny, I had very vivid memories of this book, or rather thought I did, particularly the scene where Roger and Anita have dinner at Cruella's house that fixed in my young mind as utterly disturbing with all this devil imagery and the implication Cruella was literally some kind of demon, which must have been either a) my overactive imagination or b) an illustration, because it's not as clear as I thought it was. The strangeness is there (food with too much pepper, Cruella's inability to keep warm, the walls painted blood red) but not the explicit demon imagery I had remembered. There is a part later in the book recounting the history of Hell Hall and the rumors of Cruella's ancestor streaking out of the place conjuring blue lightening, but clearly child me was reading far more into the book than was on the page.

But I still wish they'd gone with this version of Cruella's backstory, because to me an aristocratic, ink-drinking, heat-obsessed, possibly-demon spawn, high camp villain is more interesting and rings far more true than plucky punk against the establishment.

Smith clearly had Facts About Dalmations to share, and she does really craft a wonderful animal-based story that the Disney animated film is largely faithful to. Key differences include: Roger's occupation (he doesn't have to pay tax because he wiped out government debt somehow?!?), Pongo's mate and the puppy's mother is called Missis, Perdita is another dalmation who acts as a kind of doggie wet nurse, Roger and Anita both have Nannies who come to live with them (Nanny Butler and Nanny Cook), Cruella is married to a furrier (who changed his last name to de Vil). Also odd, on her first description Cruella is described as having "dark skin" but later in the novel her "white face" is mentioned, so I'm chalking it up to 50's descriptors not having the same meanings they do today.

The Duke and I (Julia Quinn) - After being just whelmed by the tv series, I wasn't really planning on reading the books, but I saw this on the top picks shelf at the library and damn, the top picks shelf is irresistible. This is very much Daphne's book (and I had known each in the series dealt with the different sibling) so many of the characters and much of the plot of the show is absent, as are some of the more baffling elements of the show like the Diamond of the First Water nonsense, which I always thought was a strange character choice in that it stacks the deck for Daphne when her character arc is better served as somewhat of an underdog (in her third season, the kind of girl who is liked but not adored), and the Prince subplot which was always far too OTT even for soapy regency romance.

It's a breezy, fun read (that scene excepted), even if the misunderstandings are contrived and I'm never going to take "I'll never have kids because I hate my dad" as a credible romantic obstacle deserving of so much angst.

Faeries (Brian Froud and Alan Lee) - A lovingly detailed and illustrated compendium of Faerie and its inhabitants, drawing from a range of European (but primarily Celtic) folklore and mythology. Froud was a conceptual designer on The Dark Crystal and Labyrinth, and the link is clear in the art as well as the focus on faeries as mysterious but oftimes sinister beings, where human encounters with them rarely end well. Lee has illustrated several publications of Tolkien's novels, and was a lead concept artists for Peter Jackson's Lord of the Rings and Hobbit trilogies, and there is a touch of Middle Earth here as well, or rather the common inspiration of the old world. A useful resource for my novel!

Watching

The Handmaid's Tale (season 4, episodes 4-8) SPOILERS - So when I last wrote about this show in the Roundup, I was complaining it wasn't going anywhere. Well, I'm happy to be wrong because they finally changed things up with June finally escaping to Canada. That part of the plot following the survivors and their trauma has always been far more compelling than Gilead, and so it was a welcome development even if I side-eye some of the choices (none of these characters is seeing an actual licensed therapist why?).

This show has always been difficult to watch given the subject matter, and that has not changed after the shift in power dynamics. I will give the show credit for showing a broad range of trauma responses, from Moira wanting to move on and not let it consume her, to June, a ball of rage and revenge on a downward spiral, to Emily, trying to follow Moira's path but being drawn to June's, to Luke, trying his best but utterly unequipped to deal with what is happening.

But it is very hard to watch June go down this path - raping her husband (I concede the show perhaps didn't intend for it to be rape, but that's what is on screen and framing it as just "taking away Luke's agency" doesn't change that), wishing death on Serena's unborn child, and orchestrating Fred's brutal murder by particulation, then holding her own daughter still covered in his blood and it getting smeared on Nicole's face (an unsubtle metaphor in a series full of unsubtle metaphors).

There are interesting questions being asked of the viewer, and the show (perhaps rightly) not giving any answers. I can certainly appreciate the catharsis of Fred getting what he deserves even if I personally find the manner of it horrifying, but where is the line between justice and revenge, is revenge the only option when justice is denied, when does a trauma release become cyclical violence/abuse - the show is, for now, letting the viewer decide.

Soul (dir. Pete Docter and Kemp Powers) - In a world full of remakes/reboots/sequels, Pixar is perhaps the lone segment under the Disney umbrella committed to original content. However, there does seem to be a Pixar formula at work directed to precision tugging the heart strings, and some of the film feels like well-trod ground. On the other hand, it's hard to criticise the risk of centering a kids film around the existential crisis of a middle aged man, even with the requisite cutesy elements (and of course, the uncomfortable pattern of yet another film where the black lead character spends a great deal of the runtime in non-human form - herein, an amorphous blob or a cat). But the animation is stunning, it successfully did tug my heart strings, and the design of the Great Before and the Jerrys is original and fun.

RuPaul's Drag Race Down Under - Drag Race is somewhat of a guilty pleasure for me, since I generally don't watch reality shows, and this is something I really enjoy even if I'm not invested in the fandom (which like many fandoms can be very yikes). This year it was time for the Australian/New Zealand (Aotearoa) queens to show their stuff, although it's been met with mixed reactions. Covid restrictions didn't allow for guest judges, relegating them to mere cameos via video calls, and its clear that Ru and Michelle really don't quite get all the cultural nuances - Aussie judge Rhys Nicholson was however always delightful. But it wouldn't be Australia without a racism scandal, with the great disappointment of the two queens of colour eliminated first, and one queen having done blackface in the recent past yet making it all the way to the top four.

In the end, the only viable and deserving winner was last Kiwi standing Kita Mean, and it was pure joy to see her get crowned. I do hope they fix the bugs and indeed do another season to better showcase AU/NZ talent.

Writing

A far more productive month - to try and get out of my writing funk I had a goal to try and write every day, even if it was only 100 words. While I didn't quite achieve a consecutive month, I did get a pretty good average, at least got something posted and two others nearly there.

The Lady of the Lake - 2441 words, Chapter 4 posted.

Against the Dying of the Light - 2745 words

Turn Your Face to the Sun - 1752 words.

Here I Go Again - 1144 words

Total words this month: 8082

Total words this year: 35,551

#personal #long post #roundup #june roundup #reading watching writing #here's to the second half of the year #I really want to get to at least 100k written #so we'll see

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scotsmanandsassenach · 4 years

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OUTLANDER FAN FICTION: Murtagh

Here is an enjoyably long list of stories featuring Outlander’s one and only Murtagh Fitzgibbons Fraser! If you have written or know of a Murtagh-centric story (or moment) that’s not on this list please DM or comment below - there‘s no such thing as too much fanfic to read! SANDS x

After Culloden by @phoenixflames12

Weakened by fever, Jamie struggles to come to terms with the loss of Claire and the child and the fact that despite his best efforts, he is still alive.

All It Takes by @lenny9987 for @imagineclaireandjamie

Prompt: Imagine the conversation in S4 between Jamie and Murtagh when he tells his godfather about his second marriage.

An Ardsmuir Man Found by @lenny9987 for @imagineclaireandjamie

Prompt: Would love to see Marsali and Fergus finding Murtagh and bring him and the baby home to Jamie and Claire. The old and the new x

An Extended Stay At River Run by cantletitgo

The moments immediately following the season 4 finale (if you haven’t watched it, there are spoilers in this work!)

Before Light by @westerhos

Murtagh comforts Jamie after Faith’s death.

Can’t Do it For Her by @lenny9987 for @imagineclaireandjamie

Prompt: Hiya! I was wondering if there could be any Murtagh POV from first book/season? Related to either Jamie’s, Claire’s or both’s actions or circumstances? Thanks!

Cross That Line by MooseDeEvita

While traveling from town to town to lure Jamie back to them, Murtagh and Claire turn to each other for physical comfort. After all, confessions of lost love go so well with an ocean view and a sky full of stars. A bit of a deleted scene in episode 14 “The Search” after they hug in the cave by the sea.

Every Breath by thatsoccercoach

“It was there with every breath.”

Explaining Geneva by @renee-writer

A missing scene from Blood of my Blood where Jamie explains what happened with Geneva to Murtagh.

Faith’s Story by Judybrandtner

Murtagh tells Faith the story of the night she was born.

For Love by @redstarfiction

Imagining a conversation between Murtagh and Jamie before the wedding when Murtagh realises his God-Son is in love with the Sassenach.

Guardian Scotsman by @writtenthroughtime

Prompt: What about a story about Claire as a child or a teenager and somehow gets raised by Murtagh?

Hold On by @abreathofsnowandwaffles

“Frank and Jamie are two very different men, but I can tell ye, they both loved ye. Jamie loved ye so much- he sent yer mam back to him, to see ye safe. He was willing to give up his life so ye stood a chance.”

Hope in Change by @lenny9987 for @imagineclaireandjamie

Prompt: Imagine that the first significant person Bree meets in the colonies is Murtagh. It is through Bree that Murtagh finds out that Claire and Jamie are also in the colonies. What if it was Murtagh rather than Lizzie who witnessed Roger being a bit rough with Bree through the window that day?

In This Together by Awilding

During their search to find Jamie, an untimely encounter compels Claire and Murtagh to return to the caves to seek refuge. Their pursuit interrupted, Claire and Murtagh’s companionship is put to the test as they must rely on each other to make it through several days of considerable challenges. Set within the 14th episode of Season 1, “The Search”.

Just the Same by @bonnie-wee-swordsman for @imagineclaireandjamie

A short Murtagh POV from 1x07 during the scene in the stables with Jamie.

Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door by @abreathofsnowandwaffles

Murtagh finds his way up to Fraser’s Ridge and is greeted by a family of *three* Frasers.

Laying Just Vengeance by @gotham-ruaidh for @imagineclaireandjamie

Imagine Murtagh’s thoughts as he saves Jamie at Culloden

Murtagh and Rebecca’ Fraser by @renee-writer

Murtagh and Rebecca’s courtship and marriage from the Marine universe. A sweet and fluff end to the story.

Murtagh on the Ridge AU by @lenny9987 for @imagineclaireandjamie

If Murtagh survived Culloden and wound up on the Ridge with Jamie and Claire and company.

Now You’re The Outlander by orphan_account

Reader travels back in time from 2016 to 1744 and is found by Claire, Jamie, Murtagh and Fergus. The Reader and Murtagh develop a relationship but it doesn’t start off very well…

Only Hope by @magnoliasinbloom

‘The dank prison cell rustled and heaved slightly with the coughs and snores and groans of its inmates. Jamie tugged the rough blanket tighter around his shoulders, turning to face the heat of the peat fire.’

Other Grandfather Tales by AbbyDebeaupre for @otheroutlandertales

OOT explores the fairy tales and Scottish stories for children Jamie Fraser may have used for Grandfather Tales.

Peace by @bonnie-wee-swordsman

A very, very short moment from Murtagh’s Death at Culloden.

Playing After Bedtime by thatsoccercoach

Faith gets up after bedtime to play with Murtagh.

Reborn by @xlisaleinx

“Ellen?“ he whispered. Her name sounded strange in his ears; he hadn’t uttered it out loud for many a decade, and yet his tongue still remembered the way to form the syllables, calling her picture to him until he could see her as clear as day, as if she was standing right in front of him.

Sir Prize by thatsoccercoach

Murtagh tells a story.

Sit Still by @lenny9987

Brianna wants to paint Murtagh’s portrait but it proves a more difficult task than she anticipated. Part of my Living It Up at Lallybroch AU series.

The Astronaut and the Lepidopterist by thatsoccercoach

Faith has a school project requiring her to find out what her family members wanted to be when they grew up.

The Gorilla Dance by Judybrandtner

Faith and Brianna Fraser have a new obsession and they want to share it with Murtagh.

The Horizon by @lenny9987

Gaps In Canon: The morning of the battle of Culloden finds Murtagh watching the horizon and waiting for Jamie to return from Craigh na Dun.

The Knife by @whiskynottea for @otheroutlandertales

Murtagh Fitzgibbons Fraser is asked to craft a knife and finds love in the new world.

The River Runs Again by @whiskynottea for @otheroutlandertales

After so many years with his life chained to another man’s fate, Murtagh was free again.

The Son He’d Never Have by @akb723

Anon asked: “I wonder what Murtagh was thinking when he was watching Jamie and Claire the first time saw each other in their wedding finery outside the church and during the vow?”

The Storyteller by @thewhitelady

A collection of shorts, taking place during Jamie’s youth.

The Truth of You by Devildream69

When two people who’ve learnt the hard way what life could do to a person, find each other again- the inevitable happens. The truth of them becomes the only thing that matters.

To Sway a Heart by @lenny9987 for @imagineclaireandjamie

Can you imagine: Jamie’s reaction straight after Claire teases him about kissing Laoghaire, maybe brooding on it by himself or talking about it in a roundabout way with Murtagh? Maybe him deciding to do something about it?

Two Red Hens by @written-rebellion

An open letter from Murtagh to his dearly departed… (aka the au where everything is okay and nothing went wrong ever)

White Roses of Scotland by behzaintfunny

December, 1754. Ardsmuir prison. James Fraser is constantly surrounded by hundreds of people, yet more alone than ever. There appears to only be a single light in the everlasting darkness, however faint it may be.

Whither Thou Goest by fardareismai for @imagineclaireandjamie

I was wondering I always thought it was sad that Murtagh never got to meet Brianna so maybe you could do a story about Murtagh being alive when Bree came to Fraser’s Ridge

#murtagh #murtagh fitzgibbons fraser #Outlander #fan fiction #fanfic #olffrec

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ask-sincerely-sea · 4 years

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A rundown of the Mermaid AU

Here’s a bullet list of my Mermaid AU and most of the content I have imagined for it! These are taken from three different posts on my main blog, but for simplicity, I compiled them all here! It is long, but feel free to read and get a feel for this universe!

All the Murphys are sharks, but they’re all different types of sharks.

Science doesn’t exist in my world so don’t expect genetics and aquatic ancestry to be something that is strict. Most families tend to stay within the same family and/or genus.

Connor is a Shortfin Mako Shark.

Zoe is a Blue Shark (Fun fact: Blue Sharks are a species of Requiem Sharks).

Cynthia is a Whale Shark.

Larry is an Oceanic Whitetip Shark.

Evan and Heidi are both octopus.

Evan is a Coconut Octopus.

Heidi is a Mimic Octopus.

Alana is a Pacific White Sided Dolphin.

Jared is a White Spotted Pufferfish.

Although intelligent like humans, mermaids will exhibit behaviors akin to their aquatic ancestry.

Evan being a Coconut Octopus will hide within ocean debris as a form of camouflage. This is often triggered by spikes in anxiety, but he also uses it to avoid interaction.

Jared absolutely puffs up. It’s usually caused by elevated emotion. Sometimes he’ll puff up because he’s upset, other times he’ll accidentally cause himself to puff up just from laughing too hard.

The Murphy family is a family a predators. They all have an acute and accurate sense of smell. Larry, Connor, and Zoe are active hunters, and when they are in hunting mode it’s hard to break them out of it until they are satiated.

Merpeople do form societies and interact with each other. They don’t hunt each other and unlike their aquatic ancestors, they don’t all follow migration paths. Some merfamilies will migrate.

Now I’ll give you all the cute and fun and interesting stuff…

Connor loves to explore any wreckage he can find. He’s super fascinated by human life and loves finding shipwrecks, plane wrecks, and even leftover skeletons.

He frequents the wrecks of military vessels most often and collects dog tags from fallen soldiers. He refurbishes them as much as he can because he likes to see the names of the men and women lost.

He often spies on humans who are boating as well. Be it a wedding boat, fishermen, or just vacationers, he just loves watching them from afar. However, the moment they spot him (usually only his dorsal fin on his tail), he dives away

.Hes accidentally becomes and ocean cryptid when a group of divers got a photo of him, albeit it fuzzy/blurry.

He’s obviously not aware of human cryptid culture.

Redditors think his viral photo is photoshopped.

Zoe isn’t as curious about humans. She is curious of the sky above and loves to watch birds as they fly around and feed on fish.

She goes stargazing a lot against her parents wishes. It’s dangerous at night and her parents (and most merpeople) fear poachers.

Zoe collects starfish on her tailfins. Since they are living creatures, she always communicates with them and makes sure they are okay with it.

Connor will leave jewelry and funky human artifacts he finds in Zoe’s room. She doesn’t know Connor is the one that leaves her random items and just assumes it’s Cynthia.

Cynthia is fascinated with human artifacts and frequents a lot of merpeople who are traders for human trinkets.

However, she is terrified of humans and doesn’t dare go near them. When she was younger, she got tangled up I’m a fishing net that belonged to poachers.

Larry is also fascinated with human trinkets, but not as much as Cynthia. Being an Oceanic Whitetip, he loves the tale of the USS Indianapolis.

He and Connor used to search shipwrecks together, but they’ve since grown apart and haven’t hunted or scavenged together in a long time.

I already said a bit of this in my last post, but being a Coconut Octopus, Evan uses physical objects to hide in and behind as a form of camouflage.

Though camouflage isn’t really necessary for merpeople being that they are able to fend for themselves and create/use tools, weapons, utensils, etcetera.

Evan’s camo is more of a reflex with his anxiety. If he’s nervous, anxious, or embarrassed, he’ll find the nearest Evan-sized object and fold himself up to fit. His tentacles can fold together tightly, he just has to account for his upper body not being as flexible.

Heidi is a Mimic Octopus as uses her camo as more of a fun party tricks. Mimic Octopus are able to disguise with many backgrounds, but are also able to contort and arrange their tentacles to resemble other species.

When Evan was little, they would travel to shallow banks along islands where the sun shone through the water really brightly. She’d contort her tentacles and do little shadow puppets of other species for him on the sand.

So, Jared is a pufferfish and not a porcupine fish. He has spines, but they’re very small and thin. They usually only show up when he’s inflated.

He HATES being inflated but it’s happens a lot.

Basically any elevated emotion inflates him. He’s angry? Puff! He’s playful? Puff! He’s excited? Puff! He’s sad? Puff! He’s [redacted]? PUFF!

He doesn’t care too much about human culture, but he is aware of this cursed video. He was hanging around a boat with a bunch of spring breakers and slipped a phone for a few minutes, stumbling across Youtube. Connor thinks it’s the funniest thing ever.

Oh, yeah, so merpeople don’t have any sort of electronic technology, but some of the most curious ones will snatch devices from boats. They are aware they don’t work underwater, so it’s usually like a dramatic spy scene of mermaids hanging out by boats with phones and tablets and messing around as much as they can for five to ten minutes.

Alana is super social and during vacations from school she’ll travel with merpeople and regular aquatic life and migrate around the world.

She’s traveled literally everywhere and has been doing it since she was a child. Her whole family used to go, but now it’s just her. Her parents trust her to be alone.

Alana has come across Sea World and other marine parks with Orcas and it makes her incredibly angry. There have been a few instances where animals in captivity have… Mysteriously escaped back into the wild…

She does have a super playful side and is very curious of humans despite often having a negative judgement/attitude towards them. When she just wants to have fun or relax, she goes bow riding along the wake of boats. She’s clever enough to not be seen.

Yes, there is merpeople high school because why not.

Again, science doesn’t exist and this au honestly doesn’t have rules.So just go ham and make mermaids, y'all!

I’m still deciding on how I want to portray Miguel, but right now I’m thinking Red Lionfish or Pacific Seahorse.That boy is something very colorful and proud!

So previously I mentioned there being an education system for merpeople as they do form societies.

So all the teens (minus Miguel) go to school together.

Their school, as well as most of the buildings in their particular society, is made up of scrapped parts from shipwrecks and other human debris. There are also some buildings and landmarks carved out of the landscape, but they gotta keep it fresh, keep it interesting. They’re still discovering and learning technology, but in their own unique ways.

(Okay, you probably didn’t even care about that fact but as an enthusiast for a “rebuild from the remains” aesthetic, I have to sprinkle in my little funky twists.)

The particular “town” of merpeople they live in isn’t very large and is constantly changing size and population due to some mers moving in and out.

Evan broke his arm over summer break in a coastal accident.

Seeing that merpeople don’t fully abide by the living standards of their aquatic ancestors, they tend to mix, mingle, and migrate without too much structure. Obviously certain families with stay together and there are some pockets of merpeople who live by more strict cultural rules. But for the sake of au, Evan and the gang live in a more relaxed mer civilization.

So, over the summer Evan was working with a group of mers that focus on coastal wildlife. Evan in particular focused on coral health and how it was being affected by human activity.

But our boy is depressed and lonely, so one day he strays from his usual group of coworkers and ventured toward a cluster of fishing boats. The general rule is don’t go near humans, especially when on the job.

He noticed that some of the boats were anchored, so he grabbed one of them from the seabed, hoisted it up the surface, and launched it above water for his to come crashing down with force behind it.

His arm got pinned under the anchor, thus breaking it.

Now, the rest of the AU at the moment is more freeform and doesn’t follow the plot of the musical, but I did want to included how Evan broke his arm.

Connor is not dead in this particular version of the AU, but feel free to craft multiple storylines and arcs with different outcomes!

Connor does paint his nails!

As previously mentioned, he is very fascinated by human society and like to get a little too close.

So, one day he came across some spring breakers and watched as they went about their activities sunbathing and painting their nails. As soon as they looked away, he stole several bottles.

It’s rare for him to find nail polish, especially since he ruined his first bottle by opening it up under water and losing the contents. But whenever a party boat or a boat of spring breakers rolls by, especially with a bunch of girls, he always has to check.

He quickly learned that whenever he wants to do his nails he has to make a whole thing about hauling himself up to surface and propping on a rock or a beach for some time.

He’s collected his signature black as well as a metallic purple, glittery pink, and bright turquoise. He wears the black and purple the most. He loves the other two colors, but poor baby is insecure and wearing nail polish as a mer is already enough to cause stares.

Jared also thinks that human legs are hot.

When Jared is puffed up, other mers will bop him around like a volleyball. It’s an unfortunate thing for any and all puffers.

Evan’s dad is a Barracuda mer, which for a Barracuda and an Octopus to mate is incredibly rare. It’s a wonder that Evan didn’t come out a totally wack and new sea monster.

But like I said, science doesn’t really exist here! Anything goes! Be whatever mer you wanna be! Love whatever mer you wanna love!

#mermaid au #mer au #deh #dear evan hansen #dear evan hansen au #evan hansen #connor murphy #jared kleinman #alana beck #zoe murphy #cynthia murphy #larry murphy #heidi hansen

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envydeanwrites · 5 years

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The Dare On Your Lips

Pairing: Destiel Rating: Teen & Up Tags: College/University AU, Truth or Dare, Drinking, Alcohol, Oblivious!Dean, bad flirt!Cas, Dean has the biggest crush, Kissing, Minor Misunderstandings, Fluff Summary: Dean Winchester has had the biggest crush on Castiel, but believes that Castiel isn't interested. Then on one drunken night, Dean is dared to kiss Castiel.

Read on AO3 | Written for @writersofdestiel weekly words: Kiss Me. beta’d by @babybluecas ♥

Dean’s buzzed enough from the couple of beers he’d had that he doesn’t feel ashamed when his eyes land on Castiel Novak across the single dorm room that he and his friends are crammed in to. His ass went numb some time ago, but moving isn’t an option unless he wants to sit on someone’s lap. While that wouldn’t be much of an issue, he’s damn sure the person’s lap he wants to sit on wouldn’t like it.

They’ve spoken, spent lunches together and sat in the same economics class for the past two semesters, but Castiel has never flirted back to him when Dean’s upped his game a little. He’s thrown a couple of hints to the guy, bought him several coffees on their many all nighters trying to get assignments completed and even turned on his Winchester charm that’s had a hundred percent success rate—until Castiel.

Charlie passes the cheap vodka around to Benny, who takes a generous swig but still makes a face like it’s burning his insides, and Dean’s not surprised, the stuff tastes like what he imagines paint thinner would taste like.

They’ve been playing Truth or Dare, and so far Dean’s been all truths and explained his few conquests since getting to college, and shed light on the weirdest place he’s had sex in which hadn’t been all that interesting, and Dean’s seen far too much skin of his best friend Benny and in his opinion, not enough of Cas’, who still looks warm and flushed from when Meg asked if he was still a virgin. Dean does now know that Castiel isn’t a virgin, has skipped class more than once and can also do a backflip—Dean had been more than impressed when Castiel had gone out in the corridor and backflipped.

The bottle of vodka reaches Dean, and then Charlie speaks up. “Truth or dare, Dean?”

He thinks for a moment and eyes Charlie carefully. She’s got a glint in her eye that Dean passes off as having alcohol in her. "Dare."

Charlie grins. “I dare you to kiss Cas,” she says and then turns her eyes on Castiel.

Dean flusters, he can feel his cheeks reddening, but Castiel is already on his feet in the middle of the room not giving Dean much longer to think about it.

"Come on, Dean," Castiel says, holding out his hand to help Dean from the floor. He's quite capable of doing that himself, though… taking Castiel's hand sounds like a real nice thing to do. "Don't be a wuss."

Dean scoffs. As if.

He stands, with Castiel's help, especially when he realises that the vodka has hit him harder than expected, and faces off with him.

Dean's never really been close enough to him to notice how their eyes meet almost perfectly. Castiel is a little squarer than himself broad shoulders and thick muscles. His eyes are shining bright with alcohol consumption and they're bluer than usual.

"Can't back out now, Dean. Not on a dare. Kiss me," Castiel taunts easily and he seems far too cool with this when Dean just knows he's way overthinking every single second.

He expects to give Castiel an awkward peck on the lips, back away and shuffle back into his spot on the floor and take a large swig of vodka to lessen the chances of remembering that he kissed Castiel Novak.

What really happens is that he leans in, with Castiel's lips in his focus, and then Castiel is right there to meet him. Around him, their friends mock cheer and holler loud enough to have the RA come round and disperse them all. Castiel's lips meet his for more than a moment, long enough for Dean to really feel like this is happening and then Castiel grabs hold of his upper arms and the kiss deepens.

Dean pulls back, confused and panicked, Castiel doesn't want this. This wasn't part of the dare, Castiel doesn't need to suffer him for any longer.

He sits down with a heavy thunk, eyes averted from Castiel, and everyone else in the room too. He does take a large swig if vodka, wishing he could down enough that he could excuse himself back to his own room, but he stays because he doesn't want his friends to think he's a lightweight.

He's quiet though, even where usually alcohol would make his tongue loose, he remains with his mouth closed. Charlie shoots him a strange look so he spends the rest of the game not handing out truths and dares and everyone else seems to skip over him too.

The heat of Castiel's gaze lingers on him every so often but he refuses to acknowledge it. He was so stupid to make more of it than was necessary, now Castiel is probably disgusted with him. It's just so typical of him to latch onto the first guy he finds that isn't straight.

Dean looks at the time on his watch to find that it's nearly 2am. He stands, hand against the wardrobe to steady his wobbly legs, and then mumbles—or slurs—something about sleep before making it out of the room.

The cool air of the corridor is a pleasant surprise and it clears the fog in his mind a little even as he stumbles towards his dorm.

He has no idea how far he gets before he hears a voice call his name behind him.

It's Castiel.

Hasn't Dean been humiliated enough already? He doesn't stop to see what Cas wants, not until a hand wraps around his arm gently and tugs him to face the other way.

"Dean?"

"Yeah, it's me," he says with a falsified grin.

"Are you okay? You've been strangely quiet this evening ever since… you know."

"Ever since I made a joke out of myself, yeah, thanks for that." Dean's tone is bitter on his tongue, but he doesn't care anymore. He can apologise to him in the morning but now he really wants to sleep.

"No, Dean… you didn't… I shouldn't have done that, okay. It's my fault. I… I thought you were into it, and then I got into it, but then you pulled away, so I'm sorry. I shouldn't have put you on the spot in front of our friends." Castiel looks at him with his giant blue eyes and Dean can't help but follow their movements as they look around. "I asked Charlie to give you that dare."

The revelation stops Dean's brain so suddenly he can almost hear the car crash and it feels like it sobers him up instantly.

"You did what?"

"I have been flirting with you for months. Clearly, I'm crap at it since you haven't noticed. So I told Charlie about it, asked for some advice because she knows you better than any of us. She told me to be obvious."

"That kiss just left me more confused.” Dean's drunken loose lips start talking before he can back out, laying his feelings at their feet. “Because I wanted it so bad but I assumed you didn't want it so I backed off before it got serious. It was so… unreal, faked."

Castiel sighs, but smiles with mirth. "Do you want to try again, then? For real this time?"

Dean looks at Castiel and he can feel the intensity of Castiel's gaze resting on him. Dean nods, words finally betraying him.

Then Castiel is close, their feet touching, the warmth of Castiel's form against his own now pressing him up against the corridor wall.

"Oh God," Dean breathes and then Castiel kisses him, soft lips against his own, and Dean kisses back. It's a little sloppy, Dean's coordination is not the best when he's drunk, but he manages to put his hands in the right places—one against Cas' hip and the other around the back of his neck—and kiss with all the might he has. Who knows, by morning Castiel might decide none of this happened and Dean will, once again, be left crushing once again.

"Dean, stop thinking so much. I really like you. I want this to be more than just tonight, if that's something you want too."

"Yes," Dean tells him breathlessly, hands pulling Castiel closer until they're too close to kiss. Just holding onto each other is enough though. Everything around them is quiet and peaceful, the only noise is their breathing.

Dean pulls back a little. "You've really been trying to flirt with me?"

"Basically since I started here last semester. I knew I was bad at it, but maybe I'm worse than I thought."

"I must have been oblivious too, even though I've had a crush on you. I was nervous every time it ended up just being us two for coffee."

Castiel gives him a withering look. "No one else was ever supposed to be at those," he whispers cautiously and looks at Dean to gauge his expression.

"So everyone knew, but me?"

"Maybe."

Dean knocks his head back against the wall. This is not the kind of conversation he needs when he's not sober so he just shakes his head.

"Kiss me again?" Dean asks, and then adds, "I dare you."

Castiel smiles and indulges him.

#writersofdestiel #destielfanficnet #spncreatorsdaily #Destiel #College au #fluff #alcohol #kissing #myfic

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yoongi-sugaglider · 5 years

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Somebody Save Me

This case might just be the death of a young detective. Sleepless nights and stress filled days haunt the young detective Kim Taehyung but he’s determined to find her. Even if it’s the last thing he may do…

Warnings:angst, mentions of torture, mentions of murder, strong language, detective au

Word count:1652

A/n: Short one but it’s been ages since I updated this and I just...idk we’re coming up to wrapping this demon of a fic up. Anyway hope ya’ll enjoy and sorry for the long hiatus~

<<Chapter Eleven---Chapter Thirteen>>>

Chapter Twelve: Unsuspected Suspect

Daddy’s still here.

We spent a lot of time yelling at each other. And I’m pretty sure I’m losing my mind.

But...what else do I have left to do besides argue with a figment of my imagination. After all… if I’m going to die here, I might as well have company right?

“What are you even doing here?”

“Witnessing the end of my family.” His face is pulled in a sneer, always mocking always watching.

The burning in my chest has spread, across my arms and down along the symbols they’d carved and on into my fingertips. I flex my fingers, watching the last of my muscles bunch beneath the glowing purple flames.

I’m losing my mind…

“Would that you had just accepted the situation for what it was…” Daddy sounds like he’s contemplating me again.

“Accepted? How, all I know is hunger and pain Daddy…”

“If you’d stop fighting it, the pain would stop.”

“Stop...the pain.”

I can hear the smile in his voice as the flames on my arm brighten.

“Yes dear daughter. Accept me. Bring me into your heart. Allow the Whistler to see through your eyes and taste with your tongue.”

I sigh, staring up at his blurring form as the flames spread to the rest of my body. The pain...it’s fading. And I can hear...a laughing in the distance, through the ringing in my ears as the door to my cage is opened.

***

“So forensics came back with the blood sample. Confirmed it matched the victim’s. The lab also showed some interesting issues with the scrap of fabric Tae found at the site.” Hobi paced along the office floor, pausing only once to motion to the file in Yoongi’s hands.

They’d come back to the detective’s office, knowing that all of the evidence to date was much more compartmentalized here and that they wouldn’t be interrupted on Yoongi’s end by police work of any kind.

“It came back positive for a special type of lichen that only grows in the cold and dampness of basement areas and underground caves.” Yoongi nodded up at the map, to which Namjoon took over.

“Taking that into consideration I mapped out all of the warehouses and empty homes that had false leads called in on them since the beginning of the case. Hence the shape now pinned on the map.”

“It’s the exact same shape as the symbols her mother painted. The same shape that showed up on the sticky notes I found at their house and the website Hobi hyung found about that cult.” Taehyung glanced down at the file in his hand.

“We’ve got our boys staking out the sister of the suspect. He’s been released on bond to her so if he or she makes a move at all we’ll know straight away and be able to take them in on suspicion of involvement. But we really don’t have much more to go on than that.” Yoongi groaned, stretching in his chair as he glanced at those milling around the room.

Hoseok had finally sat down and was now busy on his computer, searching for anything in the area that the arrow on the map pointed to that might lead them to their next clue. Namjoon was once again involved in a staring contest with the map as if staring at it long enough would lead them to the information they needed to know.

Taehyung similarly was staring at the file, reading for the hundredth time everything that they’d learned in the hopes of gleaning some piece of information they might have missed.

“I’ll go make a fresh pot of coffee.” Yoongi huffed as he rose from the chair and left the room.

“Alright. So according to the old city records I found, that area used to be the site of a coal processing facility. It was closed down due to some labor union bull crap about 60 years ago. The building was torn down but the site itself was pretty much left to …’return to the wild’ as the locals called it.” Hoseok leaned back on the sofa, stretching his arms above his head as he looked up with blurry eyes at those around him.

“Anything on who currently owns the property?” Tae asked, tossing the file onto the table in frustration.

“Nah. Not in the public domain. There’s no record of it ever having been reclaimed by the city. It’s just this grayed out portion of the property maps.”

Yoongi walked back into the room, carafe of coffee in hand and his cell phone pressed to his ear as he listened in to the voice on the other end.

“I see...and has the boy said anything since you brought the two of them in?”

He paced around the room, filling everyone’s cups as his eyebrows pressed closer and closer together.

“What did you say the suspect’s name was?” He glanced over to Taehyung, ensuring he had the detective’s attention as he repeated the name spoken to him. “Jeon Jungkook...I see.”

Namjoon and Taehyung instantly went on alert, minds flashing back to the nervous young man they’d interviewed only days ago.

“And he’s claiming to know where the girl is?”

The two detectives bolted for the door tossing their jackets on as Hoseok looked on in confusion.

“What the hell?” Hoseok asked Yoongi as the two followed close behind the frantic men.

“They interviewed the boy a while ago. He claimed not to know anything about the case and here he is cropping up again out of nowhere…”

Hoseok shook his head as he dragged his coat on. “What the hell?”

Yoongi frowned, closing and locking the office door behind them. “What the hell indeed…”

***

The four men crowded into the police precinct, elbowing cops out of the way as they hurried towards the interrogation rooms.

Namjoon reached it first, ducking his head in order to see through the small view window into the room.

The man sitting at the desk was a far cry from the man they’d interviewed before. Where once sat a well kept young man, though nervous in an almost over sized suit, there now sat a far more confident though unkempt person.

His hair, before pulled back off his forehead, now hung limp and greasy in his eyes. His clothes seemed as if he’d slept in it, while buried beneath several feet of soil. His eyes seemed to be taking in the room, as if familiarizing himself with it in some way.

“Shit, that’s him alright, but what the hell happened?” Namjoon huffed as Taehyung pushed him aside.

The young man growled, reaching as if preparing to barrel his way into the room.

“Nuh uh Mister Kim. Not your jurisdiction. “ Yoongi clamped a hand on his shoulder, pulling him harshly from the door.

“I knew that kid was suspicious from jump. We should have taken him in ages ago.” Tae growled under his breath as he allowed Yoongi and Namjoon to guide him to the observation room.

Hoseo whistled as they walked in the small room. “So this is what’s on the other side of the glass, huh?” He shook his head, very obviously unimpressed.

“The three of you chill here. I’ll go talk to him.”

Tae seemed ready to protest Yoongi’s orders, but a quick and icy cold glare stopped him short.

“Alright Chief. I’ll get him to behave.” Namjoon smiled reassuringly, taking Taehyung’s elbow and guiding him to stand in front of the one way mirror.

Yoongi nodded, departing swiftly and reappearing inside the room on the other side of the glass.

The two talked in hushed voices and Tae quickly realized that the microphone that usually fed the dialogue into the observation room wasn’t turned on. “Are you kidding me?”

“Tae chill, we’ve been doing this long enough you should be able to read body language.” Namjoon spoke, eyes never leaving the two figures hunched in conversation.

“This is bullshit…” Tae growled,arms crossed over his chest as he glared at Yoongi.

“Tae…” Namjoon’s voice was filled with warning and the younger man slouched a bit before turning away from the glass.

After a moment more of speaking with Jungkook, Yoongi walked back in the room, shoulders drooping as he stared at the two detectives with weary eyes.

“Apparently he’s dating the sister of our suspect from before. They’d been trying to recruit him into the cult that took our victim. He’s willing to lead us to her, but won’t talk beyond that. Hoseok was dead on with the abandoned building. Apparently that’s where this cult is holed up.”

“Did he say anything about their motives or why they have her?” Hoseok asked, stepping to the side to allow Yoongi space in the small room.

“Only that they’re using her as some sort of vessel for their god or some shit.” Yoongi shook his head, fingers squeezing the bridge of his nose to relieve the pressure in his head.

“You can’t seriously be thinking about letting that kid lead us in there? I say we go full force, bash whatever doors in we have to and arrest every one of those cult scum bastards.”

Yoongi shook his head, giving Tae a sympathetic look. “We can’t do that. Storm the place and we may not get to her in time. That complex is massive, she could be anywhere Taehyung. They could kill here before we even get to her.”

“No...no you’re right…” Tae’s body seemed to collapse in on itself as he leaned his back against the wall.

“So we let this kid lead one of us to her? If we’re lucky we get there in time and save her, let the rest of the cops take everyone else in. Case solved right?” Hoseok smiled, eyes hopeful as he tried to cheer them up. “Piece of cake. We’ve got this case in the bag.”

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kathrynethegreat · 5 years

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@random-emerald-thoughts asked: Hello, hope you are doing well. I have to say I am beyond fascinated with your Hannibal Au and was wondering if you might divulge some extra info about what you imagine season 1 would entail...Basically, anything you’ve got.

Oh boy, do I have more info.

While I did not write full episodes, I do have a lot of details for them – some more than others. Season 1, and actually this whole series direction came about when I read Hannibal Rising for the second time. I wanted to see if I could use flashbacks from Hannibal Rising to run alongside the story I was telling. Since Rising has so much Japanese influence, I set the majority of season 1 in Japan to further bring that theme forward.

Below the cut is the following information:

Additional Information about each episode and the real crimes that inspired some of the stories

Artwork featured in each episode

A couple pieces of Fan Art that didn’t make the cut for the Season Rundowns.

Flashbacks featured in each episode

General Season Arcs / Information / Themes

General Clannibal info (Will they kill each other or kiss each other? Who knows?)

A full summary of the absolutely bonkers season 1 finale (scroooolll to the bottom)

These notes in some instances assume you have read the four novels. If you have questions pertaining to anything you’ve not read, let me know. The notes also sometimes specify how a scene may be viewed – because this is envisioned as a TV show and not a standard fan fic.

If anyone has questions about any of the below, want more info on season 1 or the other three seasons, just let me know and I’d be happy to provide. I’ve had all of this information sitting in my head for the last eight months, and I am glad to get it off my plate, as it were.

OVERVIEW

SEASON 1 SUMMARY | SEASON 1 DETAILS

SEASON 2 SUMMARY | SEASON 2 DETAILS

SEASON 3 SUMMARY | SEASON 3 DETAILS

SEASON 4 SUMMARY | SEASON 4 DETAILS

Season 1 General Notes / Arcs / Themes:

The main case Clarice is working on is the Gardner case, which spans all four seasons. However, in each individual episode, she is usually solving other cases along the way.

Hannibal Lecter's background will unfold to help us better understand his attachment to Clarice Starling. Over time we come to understand how they are the same.

Flashbacks with regard to Hannibal and his esteem for Lady Murasaki will run parallel to the episode’s events and hopefully mirror Hannibal’s feelings for Clarice Starling. All flashbacks in general try to mirror some element of the present-day story.

This season focuses heavily on Hannibal Lecter's background, with heavy flashbacks from Hannibal Rising, with the big reveal essentially being that Mischa was eaten. There are a few Silence of the Lambs flashbacks as well.

This season also focuses on the growing relationship between Hannibal Lecter and Clarice Starling. Precarious, with an undeniable attraction at its core.

Hannibal Lecter's affection for Hiroshi Soah's youngest child mirrors his affection for Mischa

Emphasis will be put on the effects of WWII, specifically on Japanese art and culture.

Please note this season takes place in 1990. No internet, no cell phones. Clarice Starling knows Lecter because she’s recently met him several times for the Buffalo Bill case – but our other characters have never seen him. American characters may have seen a photo in a newspaper, but would someone really remember? Characters in Japan would have heard of his name, but almost certainly would not have seen a photo. He would not have been front page news in Japan. For this reason, we must suspend our disbelief and assume even the F.B.I team (except for Clarice and Ardelia (who is not yet on Clarice’s team)) is pretty clueless that Dr.Fell is Hannibal Lecter. Plus, they simply aren’t looking for him…he’s not on their radar.

SEASON 1, EPISODE 1: The One-Eyed Dragon of Ōshu

DATE: April 1990 FLASHBACKS:

Hannibal - Short bursts of young Hannibal sheathing Date's sword

Hannibal - Short bursts of young Hannibal painting with his uncle

Hannibal - Short burst of young Hannibal seeing Murasaki in her bath

Clarice - Speaking with Hannibal Lecter at the Baltimore Asylum about The Flaying of Marsyas painting (broken into several different flashbacks)

ARTWORK FEATURED:

The Concert by Vermeer - Gardner Museum

The Rape of Europa by Titian - Gardner Museum

Storm of the Sea of Galilee by Rembrandt - Gardner Museum

Sheba by Robert Lecter - Murasaki's Estate Sale, Hiroshima, Japan

Starling on a Branch in the Japanese Style, Signed with Infinity in Eight Strokes, Hiroshima, Japan, Painted by Hannibal Lecter, but attributed to Robert Lecter - Murasaki's Estate Sale, Hiroshima, Japan

Armor of Date Masamune, and 3 of its 4 pieces of weaponry - Murasaki's Estate Sale, Hiroshima, Japan

Flaying of Marsyas by Titian - National Gallery, Washington D.C., USA

NOTES:

The title refers to Date Masamune’s nick name.

The episode opens with the Gardner Heist in Boston. We do not know the robbers. From their conversation, it is clear they have been hired by someone. We will not find out by whom until season four. They work quickly. One of the two men stops in the dining room to admire Titian's The Rape of Europa. "No." says the other robber, "He said he didn't want that one."

In Japan two men bid against one another for the armor of Date Masamune at the estate sale of the recently deceased Lady Murasaki. We are introduced to Dr.John Fell and Hiroshi Soah. Those who have not read the book will not yet know that Dr.Fell is Hannibal Lecter. Clarice’s The Silence of the Lambs flashbacks throughout the episode will show Clarice talking to Lecter, but the viewer will be standing inside of Lecter’s cell, looking at Clarice. We will only see Lecter’s shoulder. During Clarice’s last Silence of the Lambs flashback at the end of the episode, we finally switch views to see what she sees. We see inside Hannibal Lecter’s cell, and we realize that Dr.Fell and Dr.Lecter are the same person.

Both Dr.Fell and Hiroshi Soah bid on a piece by Robert Lecter. They both lose to someone over the phone. The viewer, Soah, nor Lecter knows who the anonymous bidder is. This will be revealed later in season four.

The Samurai armor comes complete with 3 of its 4 original weapons. Soah and Fell begin talking about the lost Tanto sword, and when Dr.Fell mentions he may be able to track it down, Soah is intrigued and understands that Fell means this may not be through entirely legal means. They quickly build a rapport, and ultimately Fell is hired by Soah to curate a new museum Soah is opening in Hiroshima.

Hiroshi was young when the bomb went off in the city, but he is still haunted by the war, and wants to create a world-class museum to showcase the culture of Japan, which Dr.Fell will help him with. In addition, Dr.Fell will work to track down the Tanto sword, as well as help to acquire pieces for Soah’s own private art collection – sometimes through legal means…sometimes not. Soah is aware Dr.Fell is a criminal with a decent background in art – but he has no clue he has hired Hannibal Lecter.

Clarice has a somewhat embarrassing meeting with Noble Pilcher's family. They are wealthy and educated and it is obvious that they look down on her. She is mortified. While she is more determined than ever to show that she has class, it is for her own self, not to fit in with his family, as she does not see her relationship with Pilcher as going anywhere. The incident is none the less formative.

Miranda Pilcher, Noble Pilcher's mother is the Curator at the National Gallery. While Clarice and Miranda are frosty at first, ultimately Clarice trusts her judgment in art and will begin going to her for art-related advice in the future. In Miranda, she sees the kind of well dressed, well educated, classy woman that she wants to be.

Miranda mentions over dinner that she helped negotiate the sale of The Fall of Phaeton by Rubens for the Gallery in January of 1990

Clarice is devastated when she is put onto the Gardner case instead of being able to join Behavioral Science. Paul Krendler is shown to clearly not be a member of her fan club. None the less, she starts to do what she can, going over old evidence and trying to look deeper into the situation than those on the case before her. They are expensive pieces of artwork - they were stolen by someone who appreciates them, and understands them. She knows in order to find the culprit, she too will need to learn to understand and appreciate these pieces too.

Clarice goes to visit the National Gallery to speak to Miranda and to see The Flaying of Marsyas. Miranda tells Clarice it is headed back to Czechoslovakia soon, but she is worried about the painting - she doesn't know if there will even be a Chzechosolovaia for it to return to. This begins a deeper conversation about art that will carry through all four seasons. Yes, museums are filled with stolen art from pillaged civilizations – but what about instances where art is put into museums for its safety? Where is the moral line? The show doesn’t aim to give answers – as there are no easy answers – but it will aim to show that the questions are complicated.

Miranda asks Clarice how she heard about the painting, and Clarice merely says "He told me to come to see it." Miranda understands that "he" means Lecter. Miranda does not ask further questions. She does, however, mention she was also trying to purchase a piece by Robert Lecter from Murasaki's estate over the phone several days before but was outbid. Clarice asks if there is any relation to Robert Lecter and Hannibal Lecter. Miranda says she is not sure, but this gives Clarice an idea of where Lecter might be, and she is the first to understand that he is not in South America, but perhaps in Asia.

An event happening in the background is the fact that Lithuanian independence was restored in March of 1990. A recent development that Hannibal Lecter would be following closely, and would be bringing up very strong feelings.

SEASON 1, EPISODE 2: A.A.Aaron

DATE: May 1990 FLASHBACKS:

Hannibal – Young Hannibal meeting Robert, Murasaki and Chiyoh

Hannibal – Young Hannibal awakes at night in the Chateau screaming. We know something terrible has happened to him, but we don’t yet know what.

Clarice - Hannibal in his cell in Baltimore, talking to Clarice about wanting to give her what she craves most - advancement.

ARTWORK FEATURED:

An Experiment on a Bird In An Air Pump, by Joseph Wright - Hanging behind Paul Krendler's desk

Ancient Chinese Gu, unknown artist - Gardner Museum

SUMMARY:

Hannibal Lecter leaves a clue for Clarice in the China Mail. He has seen that she is looking for the Gardner pieces, and he lets her know some information about the Chinese Gu that was stolen. He addresses Hannah, but does not sign his name, though Clarice pretty much figures it's him. She realizes her hunch that he is in Asia and not South America must have some merit to it.

Paul Krendler has never forgiven Clarice Starling for catching Buffalo Bill. Krendler made sure Clarice was put onto the Garnder case, knowing all evidence that could be found, had already been found. Clarice takes this opportunity to create the F.B.I.'s Art Crime Team, which can not only work on the Gardner case, but other important art cases as well. Clarice trying to make the best of a dead-end case, and actually make progress further enrages Krendler.

Clarice assembles her team – herself, plus four other agents. Clarice asks Miranda to help educate her and her team about the ins and outs of Art and Art History.

Hiroshi Soah is recently widowed with three daughters. He is a patron of the arts, and very generous - but also suspected to be very dangerous, and a possible Yakuza (Spoiler, he is). He owns a very successful motorcycle business that he started just after the war with his brothers. Both brothers died of mysterious causes. His sister-in-law, Chiyoh also recently windowed, has moved into his home to care for her nieces. She is suspicious of the sudden death of her husband and is fairly certain that Hiroshi had something to do with it. Chiyoh's husband was head of the Yakuza in Hiroshima, as well as the head of the board of the Motorcycle company. With his death, Hiroshi's position as head of the Yakuza and head of the company was assured. She meets Hannibal when Hiroshi hires him on as curator. She has not seen him in years - not since Hannibal and Murasaki put her onto a train in France years ago. She is vaguely aware of Hannibal's past, but since she has lived for years amongst the Yakuza, his crimes don't really phase her. Turning him in does nothing for her either - she chooses to wait and see if he might be of any use to her at some point. They were good friends once - so she confesses to him her suspicions about the death of her husband. He shares with her how things ended with Murasaki and she confesses that she knows and that she and Murasaki met again after she moved back to Hiroshima.

SEASON 1, EPISODE 3: Eternity in Eight Strokes

DATE: June 1990 FLASHBACKS:

Hannibal - Robert teaching Hannibal to paint

Hannibal - Murasaki teaching Hannibal Calligraphy, specifically Eternity in Eight Strokes

Hannibal - Mischa laughing in the garden in her bathtub

Clarice - Clarice's sitting on her father's lap, looking at his badge

Clarice - Clarice and Mapp discuss Johnny's tattoo

ARTWORK FEATURED:

Eternity in Eight Strokes - Symbol

Three Beauties of the Kansei Era by Kitagawa Utamaro

The Chrysanthemum and the Sword: Patterns of Japanese Culture by Ruth Benedict, being read by Clarice

NOTES:

Since Hiroshi is recently widowed, his sister in law Chiyoh has been teaching the girls, but he asks Dr.Fell to augment their education in art and culture. Natsu, the eldest daughter, is about 18 years old and very impressionable. She very quickly falls in love with the charming and mysterious Dr.Fell. The middle daughter, Aneka, is about 10 and she is a complete smart ass and tends to not have a filter. She’s the comic relief. Emiko, the youngest is about 6 years old, and very sweet, and reminds Hannibal Lecter very much of his sister, Mischa.

When confronted with the Symbol Eternity in Eight Strokes, Clarice consults Jack Crawford’s extensive library on symbology. She finds that many past works by Hannibal Lecter were signed with this symbol.

Very quickly finding that the art theft rings she is dealing with are often dark covers for far dirtier crimes, with art often being used to help with the laundering of money, Jack Crawford decides to send Johnny Brigham to join Clarice and her team of agents. Johnny is tasked specifically by Crawford to watch out for Clarice’s safety.

Johnny has always liked Clarice and she has always liked him. His presence constantly alongside her begins the whole “will they or won’t they?” situation between them. He very quickly becomes smitten.

SEASON 1, EPISODE 4: The Provenance of Dr.Fell

DATE: June 1990 FLASHBACKS:

Clarice - "Clarice, your case file." The touch in Memphis before Lecter’s escape. The crackle in Hannibal's eyes. A shock runs through Clarice's body.

Clarice - Watching the news just after Hannibal Lecter's escape

Clarice - Ardelia asking Clarice if she fears Hannibal will come after her

ARTWORK FEATURED:

Jade burial suit of Liu Sui

NOTES:

Clarice uses her alter ego, Elizabeth Chase for the first time. Elizabeth Chase was the name of an art student and the wife of Robert Hecht, a man who dealt in smuggling antiquities illegally, and the name is an intentional selection on Clarice's part. Her whimsy is showing, and Hannibal Lecter would take notice.

A discussion of art provenance and its importance in authenticating art leads to the idea that people also have their own provenance that gives them their value. This is a major theme that is unfolding, as we essentially see flashbacks from Hannibal and Clarice showing us their own “Provenance”

Clarice does not yet know Hannibal Lecter is in Hiroshi Soah's employ, though she suspects he is somewhere in Asia. She goes undercover as Elizabeth Chase - an art dealer - at a private party at Soah's house celebrating the purchase of the Jade Burial Suit of Liu Sui. When she is dancing with Hiroshi Soah, he tells her about his new curator for the museum he is building, and that he would like to introduce her. He takes her over to Dr.Fell, whose back is turned to her. When Dr.Fell turns around, Clarice is shocked. "Do you two know one another?" Soah asks. "Do we madame?" Dr.Fell asks, taking Clarice's hand and kissing it. She touch sparks again for both of them, and they are aware of it. "I feel if we had, I should not forget.” Clarice is not amused, but cannot cause a scene, as there are several hundred people present, and doing so would endanger them, as well as ruin her cover and her mission. "Not to my knowledge, Dr.Fell." She finally says reluctantly. Dr.Fell asks Clarice to dance, and again she is hesitant to do so. When he sweeps her out onto the floor, they both begin to negotiate, talking quickly through gritted teeth as they both try very hard to smile and not let on that anything is wrong. There is a very real tension between them - both sexual, as well as a heightened feeling of danger. Lecter reveals that he has a good deal of insider information and that he can help her with her case, if only she will not reveal his identity. She agrees – for the time being.

Hiroshi and Johnny both watch Dr.Fell and Elizabeth Chase - Hiroshi is unaware of either Clarice’s and Dr.Fell’s identity, while Johnny also has no idea that Dr.Fell is Hannibal Lecter. What they do notice, however, is that there is clearly undeniable chemistry between the two. Natsu also witnesses the clear chemistry between Elizabeth Chase and Dr.Fell. Both Natsu and Johnny Brigham find themselves feeling jelous.

SEASON 1, EPISODE 5: Sadako and the Thousand Cranes

DATE: July 1990 FLASHBACKS:

Hannibal - Murasaki, Young Hannibal and Chiyoh fold paper Cranes for Chiyoh's cousin, Sadako

Hannibal - Murasaki mentions her home, Hiroshima, being destroyed

Hannibal - Deserters approach the lodge, killing Jakov and Hannibal's parents

Hannibal - Authorities yell at Lecter in his cell, he folds an origami chicken

Clarice - Clarice speaks with Lecter and pulls the origami chicken out of her purse

ARTWORK FEATURED:

The Children's Peace Monument by Kazuo Kikuchi and Kiyoshi Ikebe - Hiroshima, Japan at the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Park

Traditional Origami

NOTES:

One of the major art pieces in Heroshima is the Children's Peace Monument, which memorializes Sadako, said to be Chiyo’s cousin. The monument helps to emphasize the absolute horrors of war.

Though many of our characters are rather villainous – they have all been impacted by an actual war or a terrible hardship in their life. Soah had his home destroyed, Lecter lost his family, Johnny finds being back in Asia brings back memories of his time in Vietnam, something he doesn’t like to think about. Clarice, though not affected by war, has had terrible hardships and is also learning about the horrors of war via the art she is studying.

Traditional Origami is used to link Sadako, Hannibal Lecter's past, and Clarice's experience with meeting Hannibal Lecter for the second time (When she rescued his origami chicken from a trashcan) - A clue to the Chinese Gu is uncovered in the Yakuza crime ring, and Clarice believes it may be in China

Chiyoh and Hannibal come to an agreement - Chiyoh will not reveal who he is to authorities, and in exchange, Hannibal will kill her brother-in-law, Hiroshi Soah in retaliation for her husband's death. He agrees to do this in his own time.

SEASON 1, EPISODE 6: Kyū Bon

DATE: July 15, 1990 FLASHBACKS:

Hannibal - Murasaki mending young Hannibal's finger and asking him to arrange flowers

Hannibal - Hannibal defending Murasaki from the butcher

Hannibal - Robert's death and funeral

Clarice - Hannibal asking her worst memory of childhood

Clarice - In the hospital with her dying father as a visitor recites Thanatopsis

Clarice - Cleaning hotel rooms, Clarice's mother tells her she must move to Montana

ARTWORK FEATURED:

Thanatopsis, a poem by William Cullen Bryant read as a v.o. in the last scene

The Tale of Genji, a novel by Murasaki Shikibu

Kokin Wakashū by Court Poets Ki no Tsurayuki, Ki no Tomonori, Oshikochi no Mitsune and Mibu no Tadamine

NOTES:

This episode deals heavily in family and their impact on us

Clarice disregards the festival, but ultimately changes her mind in the end, and winds up going back to the U.S. to visit her father’s grave.

Hannibal Lecter gives Clarice Starling Chinese Lantern flowers

SEASON 1, EPISODE 7: Honjō Masamune

DATE: August, 1990 FLASHBACKS:

Clarice - Hannibal asking if she thinks he is evil, Typhoid and Swans discussion

Clarice - Hannibal telling her they are going to be partners

Hannibal - Butcher being killed with a sword

Clarice - The Screaming Lambs Confession in Memphis / Clarice escapes in the night as a child

Hannibal - Very quick, flashes of Mischa screaming, an axe, Hannibal's hand reaching for Mischa. We still can’t see what happened.

ARTWORK FEATURED:

Honjō Masamune, a famous sword

Homicide Investigation: Practical Information for Coroners, Police Officers, and Other Investigators by LeMoyne Snyder, being read by Clarice

David with the Head of Goliath, Caravaggio

NOTES:

August 26–28 – In Gainesville, Florida, police find five murdered college students, apparently killed by a serial killer. Clarice is pretty gutted to not be able to work on this case.

This episode is inspired by the real life sword. When Japanese weapons had to be surrendered in 1945, it was given over to a Sgt. Coldy Bimore. Unfortunately, no record of such a Sgt. has ever existed. This has never been solved, but this story tells a bit more about how Hannibal and Clarice uncover the sword at the hands of a man who falsified his name. The American Sgt.’s family had been killed by the Japanese during the war, and thus he took their sword from them.

This adventure takes place over a series of several days, and both Hannibal and Clarice must keep up their identities of Elizabeth Chase and John Fell. They speak a lot during this time. Lecter wakes Clarice from her nightmare during this time.

Clarice experiences her nightmare during this time and heavily begins to question if what she is doing is enough - she’s rescuing art - not people (The Florida serial killer weighs heavily on her). Hannibal Lecter holds her in the dark and tells her that what she is doing is very important and noble. She says, "I was in the barn" she says, to which he replies, "I know." "I was so cold and afraid." she says, and he says "I know." again. He closes his eyes and we understand he is speaking of more than just her dream - that he knows from his own experiences. She is disturbed to realize that she feels very safe with him.

Season 1, Episode 8: The Hall of Two Truths

When eighteen carefully chosen treasures are stolen from the Cairo Museum, the Minister of Antiquities enlists Clarice’s team to help find the culprit. Clarice suspects that a wealthy private collector may be responsible, but soon finds that the truth is far more complicated than she could have imagined.

DATE: September 1990 FLASHBACKS:

Hannibal - Inspector Popil arrives and says that organs of the butcher were removed

Hannibal - Murasaki tells Popil she and Hannibal are moving to Paris and that Hannibal is to enter medical school

Hannibal - Hannibal helps a doctor sketch dead bodies in order to remake De humani corporis fabrica libri septem, which was lost during the war

ARTWORK FEATURED:

Bust of Neferititi

Book of the Dead: The Weighing of the Heart Ceremony

Canopic Jars

De humani corporis fabrica libri septem,

NOTES:

The title references the Egyptian "Hall of Two Truths" where the human heart is weighed against a feather in the Egyptian afterlife. For our purposes, of course, the feather represents Clarice (bird imagery) and the heart represents Lecter (burning heart imagery, organs, etc)

The scales also represent the changing feelings and conflicting emotions going on with Clarice Starling.

Inspired by a 2011 Cairo Museum heist, which was never solved, but likely the pieces were stolen by a wealthy businessman who picked out specific pieces that he wanted.

The removal of organs in Egyptian mummification will be compared against Hannibal Lecter removing the organs of his victims.

SEASON 1, EPISODE 9: Kintsugi

DATE: September 1990 FLASHBACKS:

Hannibal - Flashes of Dog tags hanging around the necks of the men in the lodge

Hannibal - Flashes of Mischa screaming

Hannibal - Flashes of Hannibal and Mischa with the deserters

Hannibal - Mischa is taken away “to play”

ARTWORK FEATURED:

- The Terracotta Warriors of Emperor Qin

- Japanese art of Kintsugi

NOTES:

Kintsugi refers to the art of mending broken vases / pottery with gold

September 12 – Cold War: The two German states and the Four Powers sign the Treaty on the Final Settlement With Respect to Germany in Moscow, paving the way for German reunification.

- A major theme is brokenness. Hannibal's brokenness, Clarice's Brokenness, but her scars ultimately making her more beautiful in Lecter's eyes. He also seems to be intrigued that her brokenness has not managed to destroy her. When Soah's daughter breaks a priceless vase, Lecter discusses with her the art of Kintsugi and discusses with her how one's damage is important to their overall history. Together they repair the vase, as Lecter thinks of Clarice and of his own scars.

On the other, much darker end, it is the shattering of one of the terracotta warrior sculptures reveals that they are fake, and their insides are filled with drugs. The art world is using them as a cover for a much larger drug smuggling operation. Inspired by the movie True Lies, as well as multiple drug busts - hiding drugs in sculptures is fairly common.

There should be a discussion that each Terracotta warrior represented an actual person should tie in to Hannibal thinking about the dog tags, and that they are also tied to an individual. We don't know if this is actually true or not - I've read articles that confirm and deny this, but for our purposes the statues are indeed individuals.

The youngest of Soah's daughters likes the Ninja Turtles (popular in the 90s). Dr.Fell is confused as to why these cartoons are named after painters from the Italian Renaissance.

The episode would either open or close with the quote by Rumi, "The Wound is Where the Light Enters You."

SEASON 1, EPISODE 10: The Three Sacred Treasures of Japan

DATE: October 1990 FLASHBACKS:

Hannibal - Hannibal tries to remember the faces of the men who killed his sister and draws their faces in medical school

Hannibal - Uncovering the Dog tags in the lodge

Hannibal - Hannibal kills Dortlitch and puts the tag around his neck

Hannibal - Murasaki asks Hannibal to stop. He refuses.

ARTWORK FEATURED:

Kusanagi-no-Tsurugi, a sword

Yata-no-Kagami, a mirror

Yasakani no Magatama, a jewel

NOTES:

October 3 – Cold War: East Germany and West Germany reunify into a single Germany.

The three Sacred Treasures do exist, though very few people know where they are kept, and even fewer people have seen them. Clarice and her team must figure out how to find something without even knowing what it looks like. This is paralleled with Flashbacks of Hannibal Lecter not knowing what his sister’s killers look like...

Not knowing what the 3 Treasures look like, and the search for them can bring flashbacks to Hannibal Lecter not knowing the killers that he seeks revenge upon for Mischa's death.

SEASON 1, EPISODE 11: The Last Emperor

DATE: October 1990 FLASHBACKS:

Hannibal - Hannibal sees Kolnas daughter's bracelet and flashes back to Mischa

Hannibal - Kolnas daughter puts his dog tag in the offering plate

Hannibal - Hannibal kills Kolnas with a Tanto after he is given information on Grutas

ARTWORK FEATURED:

Ancient Chinese Gu, unknown artist - Found in China, to be returned to the Gardner Museum

The Forbidden City

NOTES:

When looking for a stolen Chinese Puzzle box, long lost, Clarice ultimately finds herself in search of a theif who it turns out has purchased the Chnese Gu from the Gardner museum. At first she thinks he may be the original theif, but she realizes the piece has changed hands several times.

The Chinese Gu has yet to actually be found.

SEASON 1, EPISODE 12: The Idol Thief

DATE: October 1990

ARTWORK FEATURED:

Natarajan Idols

NOTES:

This episode is based off of Subhash Kapoor is a New York-based art dealer on trial in Chennai for allegedly running a $100 million international smuggling racket.[2] He was previously the owner of the Art of the Past gallery in Manhattan. His sister business, Nimbus Import/Exports, specialised in selling antiquities from across the Indian Subcontinent and Southeast Asia to major museums around the world.

Natsu looks into Dr.Fell’s past and manages to uncover who he is. When she does, she also sees a picture of Clarice Starling and realizes that she is the same woman she knows as Elizabeth Chase.

SEASON 1, EPISODE 13: Yuanming Yuan

DATE: November 1990 FLASHBACKS:

Hannibal - Murasaki and Hannibal put Chiyoh on a train and discuss her fiancé, a man with two brothers who is starting a motorcycle business

ARTWORK FEATURED:

A variety of Chinese vases and bowls around the world

NOTES:

This episode is inspired by several thefts of Chinese pieces that were stolen around the same time. The case has never been solved, but it is most likely a Government inside job. Clarice - if she finds it’s a Government job - can’t really do anything when up against a Government.

There is a discussion about theft. If the pieces were stolen from China...and China steals them back - is it stealing?

SEASON 1, EPISODE 14: Teacups and Time

DATE: November 1990 FLASHBACKS:

Hannibal - Hannibal searches for Grutas

Hannibal - Grutas confirms Mischa's fate

ARTWORK FEATURED:

Japanese Tea Ceremony

Chinese Yixing Teapot

A Brief History of Time, a book by Stephen Hawking

NOTES:

November 19–21 – The leaders of Canada, the United States, and 32 European states meet in Paris to formally mark the end of the Cold War.

Lecter reads A Brief History of Time. The broken teacup is mentioned. When he is at the Japanese tea ceremony, a teacup is broken, and his calm exterior falls away for a very brief moment. Clarice seems to be the only one to notice.

Clarice has found the Chinese Gu in a previous episode. This is a huge break in the Gardner case. However, since it appears all of the items that were stolen were dispersed to different people, the other items have not yet been found. Still, she has decided that though it is a great break in the case, they will keep its discovery a secret so that it does not compromise the rest of the case or her secret identity as Elizabeth Chase.

SEASON 1, EPISODE 15:The Tantō Sword of Date Masamune

DATE: December 1990 FLASHBACKS:

Hannibal - Grutas tries to shoot young Hannibal. He is shot in the back. He appears to be dead, but he pulls the Tanto sword out from the back of his shirt. It has deflected the bullet.

Hannibal – Young Hannibal asks where Grentz is and is told he is in Canada. Hannibal then kills Grutas and puts his dog tag around his neck. Murosaki has been witness to all of this.

Hannibal - Hannibal confesses his love for Murasaki. She rejects him.

ARTWORK FEATURED:

The Dream of the Fisherman's Wife by Hokusai, on loan to the Hiroshima Museum of Art from the British Museum, in conjunction with an exhibition called "Sex and Pleasure in Japanese Art"

Starling on a Branch in the Japanese Style, Signed with Infinity in Eight Strokes, Hiroshima, Japan, Painted by Hannibal Lecter, but attributed to Robert Lecter - found in Dr.Fell's studio

Clarice with a Lamb by Hannibal Lecter, found in Dr.Fell's studio

Armor of Date Masamune, and 3 of its 4 pieces of weaponry - Hiroshi Soah's private collection.

Tanto Sword of Date Masamune, 4th piece of weaponry - on Hannibal Lecter's person

Tessen, Japanese War Fan - on Clarice's person

FULL EPISODE SUMMARY:

We open the episode in the newly opened Hiroshima Museum of Art, opened and funded by Hiroshi Soah in an attempt to help replace heritage lost to the Hiroshima bomb, as well as an attempt to make Hiroshima a center of culture for the nation – a Phoenix from the Ashes, as it were.

Clarice stands in the Hiroshima Museum of Art’s newest exhibition on Sex and Pleasure in Japanese Art, which was Curated by Dr.Fell (this is a real exhibit that would not happen until 2013/2014 at the British Museum). She stands before The Dream of the Fisherman’s Wife and considers it, waiting. Johnny appears and stands beside her. He too considers the painting. He wrinkles his nose - he does not care for it. After a few moments of silence, Johnny hands Clarice some paperwork and tells her that they have enough information, and they now officially have permission from both the American and Japanese government to raid Hiroshi Soah’s private collection and arrest him. They have to be smart about it, as they do not think Soah will go quietly. His home is highly guarded, and even with a warrant, his thugs are likely to put up a fight.

Due to the museum opening, as well as some new private acquisitions, Soah’s private collection has been in constant movement. His renovation on his own personal gallery means there is lots of construction in the home, and it’s agreed that the FBI will disguise themselves as workers. Clarice will need to go in first and assess the situation to make sure to determine the important pieces currently are so that nothing is damaged during the raid, as that would defeat the purpose of the entire mission, which is ultimately to keep the artwork safe and back where it belongs. They agree that Elizabeth Chase will go during the day to assess the situation, giving some other art related reason for being there – offering up a painting she has recently acquired in the hopes that she could walk with Soah through his gallery and tell him exactly where she thinks it should go, meanwhile noting specific placement of everything.

Clarice Starling is mildy concerned and plagued with guilt, however. Several months before she had sent warning to Behavioral Science that she had found Hannibal Lecter. However, Lecter has not betrayed her identity, and has not only been helpful in uncovering information for her, they’ve also begun to confide in one another. She worries that if he discovers her betrayal that no one will be safe from his wrath.

Clarice Starling arrives for her appointment with Hiroshi Soah and is asked to wait in the garden. She sits and drinks tea and hears laughter in the background. She looks to see on the far side of the garden, Dr.Fell teaching the three girls about Japanese Weaponry. He has a long sword, and he two eldest Natsu and Aneka have shorter swords, while Emiko being very young has a fan. She is rather put out that she is not allowed to play with big knives.

Clarice goes closer to watch and she and Lecter acknowledge one another with a nod and a smile, but say nothing. Natsu, who has a big crush on Dr.Fell notices this, and her jealousy flares again – for she has found drawings of Elizabeth Chase in Dr.Fell’s studio.

Dr.Fell assures Emiko that the fan she has is just as important as a sword, and he reveals to her that the spokes of her fan - a tessen - are pointed and indeed very dangerous.

We see a short flash of young Hannibal Lecter fighting with Grutas. Dr.Fell, mildly disturbed by his thoughts, steadies himself back in the present and then teaches Emiko how to deflect a sword using the fan. She is placated.

Clarice playfully mentions “When you taught me how to use a sword, you never mentioned the fan to me.” She then tells him that she has seen the new exhibit he curated at the museum, and she is not entirely sure what to think. Dr.Fell covers Emiko's ears, and seductively begins to talk to Elizabeth about how the West tends to find pleasure and sex sinful, but the east has no such reservations, etc.

Natsu is further angered that Dr.Fell is very clearly entranced by Elizabeth. A servant comes for Elizabeth Chase and leads her into Hiroshi Soah’s study. Clarice and Hiroshi speak for a long time, and then walk down his gallery. Elizabeth mentions the piece she has just acquired from one of her customers who has passed away and pulls out photos from her purse. Soah isn’t sure, but they continue their walk, and she tells him she has a few other pieces that she thinks he might like. She also asks him how the restoration on the sword that she and Dr.Fell managed to find several months ago is going. He takes her over to a new portion of his gallery where he has many pieces of Japanese Weaponry on display – several swords, fans (Tessen) and of course the Samurai suit is the centerpiece.. He mentions that Dr.Fell did the restoration on the sword himself. He also mentions Dr.Fell is close to finding the lost Tanto sword – might Elizabeth be able to help with that as well and she and Fell worked together so well on finding the other sword?

She mentions she will keep her ear to the ground about it. As Hiroshi, very polite and charming, escorts Elizabeth from the house, says goodbye and goes back into the house.

Chiyoh and the three girls are on the terrace folding origami as Elizabeth heads to her car. When Elizabeth asks where Dr.Fell has gone, Chiyoh mentions that he had been called to the museum to consult on the layout and hanging of several paintings.

Emiko goes to Elizabeth and hands her a paper crane before she can descend from the terrace. “Doctor Fell asked me to give this to you.” She says. Elizabeth thanks her and moves put it into her purse when she hears Hiroshi Soah calling her name. He walks out onto the terrace and says he’s re-considered – would she be willing to leave those photographs of that painting with him for a couple of days? She says, of course and digs into her purse and sets them down beside the paper crane. He thanks her, and she turns again to leave, forgetting the crane.

When Elizabeth is gone and the others have all gone inside, Natsu takes the paper crane and unfolds it to reveal a note written on it. It is addressed to Clarice and it indicates that he knows what she is up to, and that he does not advise a raid tonight, as security has just been doubled. It is signed “H.”

Clarice assembles her team and discussed the layout, the plan, and where certain pieces of art are. Some they will take, some they will not, some have been illegally aquired, some have not. She also mentions where Soah will most likely be able to be found in the home. She alerts the men to the bedrooms of the three daughters as well as their aunt Chiyoh and makes sure that everyone is well aware to be very careful around the women, not to scare them, harm them, etc.

Her team asks if Dr.Fell will go along with the law, and she confirms that she has made sure there will be an “urgent call” from the museum an hour before they enter in order to get him off the premises in case he comes back to the house.

Later, Lecter returns only to be called back to the museum on an emergency. Clarice’s team watch and confirm that Dr.Fell has left. Dr.Fell, of course, knows it is a ruse, and later sneaks back in disguised as one of the construction workers, alongside the FBI.

Clarice goes in the back way to secure the inside of the gallery before the raid begins. The men outside await her go ahead via an earpiece, but it is dropped when she is grabbed by one of Soah’s security men who drags her into the newest part of the gallery containing the Japanese weapons, where Soah and Dr.Fell stand. Dr.Fell remains calm and betrays nothing until it looks like Clarice really is going to be killed by one of Soah's men who has a knife to her throat and is just waiting for Soah's command.

Finally, Dr.Fell lets in a sharp intake of breath, which causes Soah to make his men pause while he turns to Dr.Fell and asks if he likes Elizabeth?

“I do believe my daughter is rather jealous of the two of you.” Soah confesses. “It was her jealousy that caused me to find out about you, miss Clarice Starling.”

Fell admits Clarice Starling is very lovely. Perhaps they could make it look like she has gone missing? Soah considers. Fell has given him 100s of millions in stolen goods and has done a great job over the past year. It is clear that though Soah knows Clarice’s identity, he does not know about Fell’s… He agrees to let Dr.Fell have the girl.

Clarice spits at both their feet and says she'd rather die.

Soah says that can be arranged and gives the order for his men to kill Clarice. Just before the knife slits her throat, another knife is thrown through the air and strikes into the henchman’s neck.

It is clearly a match for the Tanto sword of Masamune.

We see a quick flash of young Hannibal Lecter getting up from the floor of the boat after having just been shot and pulling the Tanto sword out from the back of his shirt. We realize suddenly – he’s had the knife all along. We learn Mischa was eaten.

Hiroshi Soah’s eyes grow wide at the realization that it is the knife he’s been looking for. He turns to confront Dr.Fell, but Lecter has grabbed a sword from the armor and takes Soah’s head clean off. He then throws Soah's sword to Clarice, who catches it, midair, while he goes over to the wall and removes the sword he and Clarice tracked down together several months before.

Together they are surrounded on all sides by member’s of Hiroshi’s Yakuza, and they must fight together to kill them. At one point Hannibal Lecter is almost taken down - there is a knife to his throat and he has no weapon. Clarice shouts out his real name to him as she tosses him a weapon that he uses to kill the man holding him back.

All the henchman pause at hearing Lecter's real name - they only knew him as Dr.Fell. There is a new level of fear now that these men know they are fighting Hannibal Lecter.

There is a quick flashback of Hannibal Lecter killing Grutas in front of Murasaki, and then confessing his love for her. She tells him there is nothing left of him to love and leaves him.

Back to reality, the man standing closest to him is now frozen in fear, and Hannibal grabs him and rips out his throat with his teeth. Blood dripping from his mouth, he spits the contents onto the floor, reaches out, and grabs Clarice, kissing her fiercely before they go back to taking down the remaining men.

While fighting, Lecter tells Clarice he didn't betray her. Clarice does not mention that she, several months earlier, had betrayed him. Clarice grabs a Tessen fan from the wall and uses it to deflect a sword and spike another henchman in the heart. Lecter makes a crack about fighting in her good shoes, at which point Clarice takes off her shoe and spikes the heel through one henchman’s eyes.

Lecter is delighted with both her resourcefulness and ferocity. Once all the men are dead, they are surrounded by bodies and covered in blood, breathing heavily. Standing inches apart, they grab one another and kiss hungrily, angrily. When they part he asks her to come away with him. She is upset by this and asks that he turn himself in. Again he asks for her to come with him and promises that he will give her everything she ever wanted. Again she begs for him to turn himself in.

He says he won’t – and that she doesn’t want to turn him in either or she would not have tried to make sure he was off the property during the raid. She hesitates.

Suddenly there is the sound of crashing glass as the FBI come in from the long side of the gallery, and Soah’s backup from the other side. Clarice rushes towards her men, while Lecter heads in the opposite direction.

On his way out of the house he encounters Natsu, who has heard the commotion and come running. She is crying and tells Hannibal Lecter that she did not betray his true identity to her father – only the identity of Clarice Starling. Chiyoh comes up from behind Natsu and takes her arm, calls her a foolish girl and says that she would have been wiser to betray them both.

Hannibal Lecter tells Chiyoh that their agreement has been settled, and she knows that Hannibal Lecter has killed her brother in law for her in retribution for Soah having her husband killed.

Chiyoh lets Hannibal Lecter go, and later is seen speaking with the police. She is shown ascending to the head of the board of Soah's company - as well as becomes the head of Soah's Yakuza clan.

Ultimately the FBI is successful and manages to secure the pieces that they need, and arrest several of Soah’s men.

Dr.Fell cannot be found, but all of his paperwork checks out beautifully...Chiyoh makes an agreement with the Japanese government, and Dr.Fell is not persued.

When Dr.Fell’s studio is found in the attic of the house, the FBI is surprised to find several drawings and paintings of Clarice Starling. Nobody yet realizes that Dr.Fell was Hannibal Lecter.

#hannibal #hannibal lecter #clarice starling #hannibal rising #silence of the lambs #the rape of europa #hannibal au #fan fic #my edits

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atlas-of-a-human-soul · 5 years

Text

Αιώνια αγάπη(DT AU), pt. 6

06: In Art We Trust

Summary: After losing their house, the Kappa’s learn of bylaws the original Kappa’s refused to follow. Leading them into a new tomorrow, Y/N finds herself in over her head with two men who no longer hide their intentions from her.

Warnings: angst

Word count: ~ 3000

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Αιώνια αγάπη (DT Modern Greek god/frat! AU) MASTERLIST

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Special thanks to @mutuallynotmutual for being in the story as Alyssa, @leonardo-da-vinsheep as Perry and @daddygraysonsbitch as Sara, with special mentions of @godlydolans as Yashi.

Also a big thank you to @grungegrant for drawing Grayson as Apollo

Shocked, worried, a little lost. It’s barely enough to describe what Y/N felt once she grabbed what was left of her things and pulled it to the KDR porch. She watched the billowing smoke color the night sky in all shades of grey, the flames engulfing what she saw as home for the first time since her mother passed.

Her bottom lip quivered, the corners of her eyes wrinkling along with her forehead. She furrowed her eyebrows, sending herself into a state of numbness to survive the collapsing future her mother always nudged her toward. Her heartbreak could be heard from miles away if one would just stop and listen, yet she let not a single sob escape her.

“Oh my God, are you okay?!” Alyssa cupped Y/N’s face, following the tracks her tears made as they cleaned a path through smoke mattered cheeks.

“Yeah.” Y/N breaths out.

I’m not, she thinks.

“Grayson fucking Dolan kissed you.” Alyssa whisper shouts, giggling.

“I would be out of it too.” She winks, deciding to take the bad and push it down to let the good in and in Alyssa’s mind that kiss was a pot of gold.

It snapped Y/N back to reality, her eyes widening once she remembered Grayson, THE GRAYSON, followed her into the fire and helped her save her mother’s painting and much more. And yes, he kissed her. He kissed her and took the very breath from her lungs and she could barely form words to describe how heavenly his kiss felt, but she couldn’t afford to do that anyway. One whiff of what happened and Blair would have her out of the Kappas before she has a chance to utter an apology.

“I won’t tell. Promise.” Alyssa must have noticed her distress, immediately putting her fears to rest and giving a reason to love her more. It was so clear she was going to be someone Y/N keeps in her life for a lot longer than college lasts.

“Thank you.” Y/N smiled, leaning into Alyssa as they watched the firemen try and salvage what is left of their beloved sorority house.

“I’m still super jelly.” Alyssa whispers under her breath, making Y/N cackle and lightly slap her arm to stop.

Even when dawn came in to announce a new day, the smoke had painted the skies a dull mix of black and grey, the fire just dying out.

The girls stood outside, most in their skimpy party dresses, some still drunk or just sobering up.

They were all called back to the Dean’s office, fifteen of them needed inside.

“I’ll keep your stuff safe.” Grayson mouths, trying to be inconspicuous. He got a small smile for his effort, one he took as a win considering how angry she looked when their kiss broke.

Once the Dean called them in, all of them gathered, some crying for their things and others for food.

“There will be an investigation to determine the reason why this fire happened. I expect the fire marshal to have news for me this or tomorrow afternoon. I know you girls are scared, hungry, tired and homeless as of now. The bylaws are clear on how we proceed next. You’re moving into the fraternity next door as they are your brother fraternity and they are willing to help.” The Dean announced, looking at all the gobsmacked girls nearly faint with his decision.

“But we’re not allowed to mix with KDRs.” Sara chuckles, looking at Blair who resembles a drowned rat more than the supposedly fabulous leader she claimed to be. Y/N could tell Sara is purposely pushing Blair’s buttons, hoping she’ll explode. It’s obvious no one really likes the blonde tyrant.

“There must be a mistake.” Blair practically growls, making Y/N roll her eyes and step forward to the Dean’s desk. Graciously, she turns to her Kappa sisters.

“Kappa sisters. I may be a freshman and have no knowledge of what the KDRs are like, but I sure as hell know I don’t want to be homeless. I’m sure we can withstand a year with the guys while the Dean calls in the rich alumni for generous donations.” Y/N glances over her shoulder with a smirk, knowing she just made sure the Dean has to take on this project.

“Now, be a dignified Kappa sister and turn these lemons into lemonade.”

“Easy peasy, lemon squeezy.” Perry confirms, standing with Y/N on her statement before Blair has a chance to throw a tantrum that would lose the girls their home.

Standing ovation for a few words? Well, Y/N didn’t expect that either, but she didn’t shy away from it like she usually did. Instead, she courtesies with a smile, joining Alyssa, Sara and Perry in the middle of their group and leads the sisters out. Doing so, she missed the glare Blair sent her way, not knowing Blair had witnessed her indiscretion just as Alyssa did.

The girls gathered before the frat with a signed decree of sorts from the Dean, ordering the frats to make room for them.

To their surprise, the guys welcomed them with arms wide open and understanding smiles, letting them into their homes without any issues.

Grayson and Ethan practically materialized from thin air to welcome Y/N, wanting to make sure she’s alright but each with their own hidden agenda.

They started the fire.

That voice returned, scaring Y/N into a small jump, making her look around wildly.

I’m losing my mind, she thought with her heart still beating fast.

“You good?” Ethan asks, biting his lower lip lightly.

While he did start the fire, he never knew she’d be crazy enough to run into a burning building. It made his senses go into overdrive, slightly pushing him to guilt, mostly because he hated the frown upon her beautiful lips. The same lips his brother had kissed and he had yet to taste them.

In the few hours he had of Grayson pestering him for taking such a supposedly unnecessary risk, explaining she could have been killed almost stopped his heart altogether.

But she didn’t die and my plan is working, he tells himself.

“Fine.” She responds absentmindedly, her gaze wandering in an attempt to find the source of the voice in her head instead of constantly being scared she’s lost her senses.

“I, uh, took the liberty of putting an extra bed in my room for you if that’s not too awkward.” Grayson rubs the back of his neck nervously, watching her closely because she not only scared the shit out if him, but also nearly died for a few boxes and a painting. He didn’t understand the obsession mortals have about earthly things that belonged to those who were not in this world anymore, but he wanted to. He needed to.

“Our room, he means.” Ethan corrects his brother, reminding him he too is moving in because there is not a chance in hell he will let them share a bedroom. It would be a sure recipe for his defeat.

“We put three brothers in a single room to give every bed we could to the girls, but one still has to share a room with us and we thought it could be you.” Grayson explains, clearing his throat awkwardly as she stares up at him with her doe eyes through those thick, long eyelashes.

“Okay.” Y/N’s eyes flicker from one brother to the other suspiciously, thinking she’s definitely going to lose her mind now. Sharing a bedroom with twins who look like perfection? Easy, right?

Clapping his hands confidently, Grayson encases her right hand in his and pulls her inside.

The house itself is a lot neater than Y/N imagined a frat would be, the colors blending in different shades of white and green, KDR written in gold in the foyer.

Ethan takes her free hand, moving her along as well and although she should take control and retract her hands, she lets them lead her up the stairs.

One look around is enough for her to see all her sisters are being shown to their rooms by the guys, none of them fighting contact either.

Contact is comforting in this case, a necessary dash of heaven mixed with a lick of hell’s fire. One she would die to feel upon her skin all the time if that was an option.

Entering their shared bedroom, Y/N’s lips curl up, noticing it’s the same room she watched Grayson in from the other side of the window. There was a whole part she couldn’t see, the same one that now had two beds, several blank canvases and paint around, only one covered up from curious eyes.

Naturally, it sparked her interest.

“You, uh…paint?” Y/N took a few uncertain steps toward the covered painting, glancing at a sweaty Grayson who looked like he would rather swim with sharks than show her what’s under.

“I dabble.” He nods his head faintly, glancing at Ethan who pushed a few boxes to a bed he decided would be his.

“Can I see?” She quirked an eyebrow, watching Grayson turn into a nervous wreck.

“Ethan, help me out here?” She calls on the silent twin.

“Don’t be a lite bitch, Gray. Show her.” Ethan teased, joining in. He’ll take any chance to talk to her and he wasn’t about to miss this opportunity.

Without permission, Ethan unveiled the painting himself, turning with a grin toward her but instead of a smile he found Y/N to be pale and she stumbles, falling to her knees when Grayson jumps in to catch her. The thud is barely heard, significantly lessened by Grayson’s quick reaction.

“W-who is that?” Y/N muttered, her voice shaky and breaking. Ethan frowned, matching the confused look on Grayson’s face.

“How I envision Hecate.” Grayson answers, hearing Y/N gulp. It’s a half truth, one he can’t be honest about quite yet as that is not how he envisioned Hecate…because that is Hecate.

But to Y/N, that was the demon in her dreams and now reality. The one that haunts her, driving her to insanity.

“Our talk inspired me to paint her.” Grayson explains, gently lifting her off the ground and into his lap, his hand pushing her hair back from her face only to rest it on her left cheek.

Ethan nearly growled, the intimacy they show right before his eyes only awakening his demons. He was the one who found her, recognized her. He was the one who gave her space to be who she is while he crawls through her veins and to her heart in a slower pace because he cared enough not to overwhelm her. He was the one who saved her Kappa status while Apollo put it at risk by claiming her lips in front of everyone to see. And he was the one who committed a felony to get her under the same roof, hence giving them a chance to be closer than they’d ever get had he not done the hard thing. He always does the dirty work, but Apollo always reaps the rewards. How is that fair?

“Y/N.” Ethan bends down, putting all his weight on one knee, setting himself beside her.

“Why are you so scared?” His words are like water, encasing her with their calming, gentle touch which is absolutely anything but what she thought it would be. Ethan always seemed like a sea at storm, raging, ravishing in all he does. Passionate, ravaging, taking all until you’re sure you’ll be forever lost. She never saw him as the calm in her own storm, as the anchor he dropped with a few softly spoken words, but he took on the role so naturally she could only trust him and let the doubts go.

“I can’t explain it.” Her voice still shaky, her eyes darting from the painting to Ethan’s face like she wants to confide, but is terrified what they’ll think of her. But Ethan knew…he knew she must be as haunted as Yashi was with one significantly important difference; Yashi wasn’t scared of Athena. Then again Hecate wasn’t some wisdom filled goddess who sat in her temple and allowed supreme gods to rape her loyal worshipers only to have them turned to monsters like she did with Medusa. Hecate was darkness, the other side of the golden coin - the one no one messed with unless absolutely needed.

“Whatever you say right now won’t change the the fact I wholeheartedly care for you and want you to feel safe.” Ethan states without a batting an eye, honest to a fault and prepared to do anything for her.

“I will keep you safe.” Ethan adds for good measure, emphasizing the I so much so she blinked once, fast like she didn’t believe her ears.

How can she be so blind to my affections, Hermes wondered.

“I know.” Her lips curve into a small smile, one barely visible to those who don’t pay attention to every change in her attitude. He’d never miss it.

“I, uh. I dream of her. See her I think. That same exact woman from your painting.” She glances at Apollo at the last bit, biting on her lip before gnawing at the inside of her bottom one.

The words spread ice in their veins, both brothers frozen in their fear. It meant their chance at winning her over is dwindling to nothing if they don’t act fast, Apollo now grateful for Hermes’ extreme measures. If Hecate is already invading Y/N’s mind, it’s only a matter of time before she tells her the truth about them and that cannot happen. She needs to hear it from them. But she’s not ready yet, they both know that. She had yet to express any affection for them. That’s a must as they can use it to convince her to stay.

“That’s very unusual, but maybe you saw it before? You room has a great view of mine.” Grayson tries, seeing the disappointment and doubt in her eyes; disappointment about his disbelief and although she can’t hold it against him because it’s a probable alternative, but the fact he found an alternative instead of just believing her is unpleasant feeling on it’s own.

“I’m sure she’d know if she had seen it before.” Ethan snaps, voice dripping with sarcasm and annoyance, giving Y/N cause to smile, again with the smallest of smiles, almost minuscule but present nonetheless. He took it as a win anyway, happy to have something because so far he got nothing.

“We’ll figure it out. But you should take a shower and sleep a little, we’ll be here when you wake up. I’ll be in the bed right next to yours.” Ethan takes her hand, clasping it in his in order to help her up and away from his brother’s lap because he never, not even for a second forgot she was situated next to Apollo’s junk.

Grateful, she nods and takes his hand and the offer to help.

While the water ran, drowning out the world around her, the twins stood in their room with faces red and eyes dark.

“Hecate is going to influence her and if we don’t step up our game, she’s lost to us.” Hermes states, his hands steady on his hips, his shoulders slacking as is his back.

“Well, thanks to you, we have her with us for now. We can use that to our advantage.” Apollo runs his chin and the slight stubble growing with his impatience. He couldn’t handle this not working out. And yes, he started to care for the human, unexpectedly so, but his wish to go home fueled him to deceive her further and if that ended up with him kissing her again…who was he to fight such small pleasures?

“Is that an apology I smell, brother?” Hermes smirks, poking Apollo’s bicep.

Apollo groans, running a hand over his face, nodding.

“You did good.” Apollo mutters, hating himself for commending such behavior but as it turns out, the risk really was necessary. He couldn’t lie.

“Awee. Finally!” Hermes raises both his arms in the air, genuinely enjoying Apollo’s recognition and enlightenment.

“Also, I’m taking her on a date tomorrow.” Hermes tosses that one in, making Apollo’s eyes widen. His heart jumped and the cage around it grew smaller until it crushed the soft tissue. Apollo felt his skin growing warmer, his fists tighter and his want to punch his brother confused him. He had never felt like that before.

“When did you ask?” Apollo questions, his jaw clenched.

“Now.” Hermes smirks turning on his heel once the bathroom door opens and a dressed, fresh Y/N appears on the doorstep.

“Wanna go out for an adventure with me?” Hermes raises his brow, noticing Y/N freeze, tensing up but also relaxing moments after. She looks to Apollo, noticing him turning redder, but he didn’t object so why would she?

“Yes.”

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Tags: @mutuallynotmutual @lanadeldolans @xalayx @accalialionheart @gia-kerks @historyheart @heeydolan @heyits-claire @daddygraysonsbitch @fallinginlove-16 @lanadeldolans @beautifulfound @thearachna-kid @dinnerwiththedolans @graydolan12 @justanotherfangurl272 @dxlansfxck @godlydolans @flowery-dolan

#ethan dolan #grayson dolan #dolan twins #ethan dolan x reader #grayson dolan x reader #dolan twins greek god au #GREEK GOD AU #apollo #hermes #dolan twins au #ethan dolan au #grayson dolan au #Greek Mythology

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