#an ode to dying stars if

[yuuugay]

“This kingdom aint big enough for three parental figures of a traumatized child” 😮‍💨🤠-Faolan

I have no idea what body faolan has but hes giving jacked dad vibes, 💪💪💪💪💪 I didn’tsee anything about body appearance so i might be clowning

@dyingstars-if

[stephschoices]

krios can be 😠 or 😍 @dyingstars-if

[normal-with-adhd-is-a-joke]

Not to be gay but why does every single one of Lady Gaga's songs transform me

[hhighkey]

An Ode to... // Feitan, one shot - part of hhighkey’s phantom troupe universe series

Rating: mature Story Contains: Stockholm syndrome, implied past kidnapping and stalking, emotional and physical violence, isolation, torture, feitan dense when it comes to feelings, jealousy, possessive behavior, rough sex, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, female reader, etc Note: wc just over 9k, updated for grammar, ao3 link: xxx

Feitan followed you for a year before kidnapping you. You'd caught his eye by surprise one day- technically Phinks pointed you out to him- but your fate was decided then and there. So he'd yearn for you during nights he struggled to sleep, which turned into a battle within him raging of emotions unlike any he'd felt day in and out. It was like his chest and heart swelled so much around you or at the thought of you- he was so full with a warm giddiness that he thought he'd burst. For some days he wondered if killing you would make his life easier, until he realized one night that the thought of you dying hurt even more than any injury. 

For eight months you'd been his. 

And time didn't seem to matter anymore as you spent it in a small attic turned bedroom with a small bathroom. A tiny round window, with metal bars, was your only door to the outside world. You'd watched the seasons change from summer to fall, and now to winter. A dusting of white snow had fallen on the ground and furthermore a cold draft had you shaking under a mountain of thin blankets. 

The first month you never left the attic, Feitan wouldn't let you. You didn't see him either, just opening the door to place food inside then immediately locking it again. Screaming and crying until your voice was hoarse and you had no more tears to cry. Days on end curled into a ball as you stared devoid at a plank wall. The ceilings were low, meeting at a point in the center, thankful you were short to be able to move around easier. For a while you refused to be broken, trying to do small things to keep up fitness, but slowly the lack of signs of rescue froze everything. Like your mind and body shut down so matter how you yearned for your prior life. Slipping into your own world you began in your head, an alternate reality with your loved ones that did its best to comfort you. 

But each day you awoke in that same room in the same bed. Chilling how Feitan took your own pillows and blankets, to provide you some comfort or familiarity. Your favorite outfits in the drawers across the room, the cloth baby doll you slept with every night- it made you realize just how long your captor had been watching. 

Month two you realized things in the room were moved ever so lightly in the morning. At first you chalked it up to your poor mental state, that you had simply forgotten. Until you woke up one night, around 2AM to a pair of dark eyes watching you. Feitan. He was the one who pulled the chair to your bedside. He was the reason you woke up feeling vulnerable and gross. After you caught him, he didn't bother to hide anymore. 

He started watching you do the most mundane tasks, primarily eating, worried you'd choke. Started asking you the food you preferred and when you scarfed it as fast as possible, he grasped your jaw and helped you chew. That was the first time he'd touched you and your eyes lit up in shock from the chills that went down your spine. He didn't come around much after that, as you started getting too bold. You'd yell and scream at him, try throwing whatever you got your hands on. He left you isolated for weeks. 

Maybe it was your pathetic nature of wanting to please everyone, not being able to stand up for yourself that really drew Feitan in. Because never once did you try to escape— Especially not when the way Feitan walked around the house had your eyes glued to him with stars dizzying within them.

By month four he let out downstairs, let you sit in the kitchen as he cooked. Let you watch a movie as long as you sit on the couch with your hips just touching his. And you did it, because watching the reruns of that boring soap opera was the best thing to happen to you in far too long. It kept you from attempting to escape- asides from the fact there was no way out of the dingy attic, especially when Feitan left for weeks on end. 

The basement was cold. 

Your feet felt like they'd freeze off the first time he brought you down there. You realized, rather quickly, that you never wanted to be there again.

And it was in that basement that you understood who Feitan truly was, what he did for work and why he constantly disappeared. And why you needn't disobey. 

Even when he opened the door to the basement for the first time and motioned, you followed. Because five months in you'd listen due to fear. 

But your disobedience shown in the way your body froze when you reached the bottom of the stairs- whimpers escaping your lips as you tried to go back up. Feitan had just stood there, pushing you further. 

"Sit," He said, pointing to an armchair set up towards the workstation, "want you see me work." 

"W-work?" You swallowed hard. With hindsight you shouldn't have been surprised that someone as cold as Feitan, your kidnapper, was a murderer. A torturer who relished in pain, as not one did your depressed state bother him.

A man- beaten bloody was strapped to a table cranked forward so his head hung. He was in a loose shirt and shorts, ankles and wrists chained to the steel surface. 

"No.." The tears began to fall thickly, "please let me go upstairs-"

"No." Feitan watched you, "Sit. Waiting too long. Want you to watch. Been five months."

So you had been with him for five months, a part of you felt it'd been years already. "I can't," You whimpered, "please," your stomach was churning, bile rising in your throat as an intense heat dizzied your body. 

Feitan grabbed your wrist as if you were a doll, dragging you over and into the chair, "Stay." it was a threat. You could only nod as snot began to run down your nose and sweat beaded at your brow. Breathing became hard, the air dense and the smell of blood was sickening. 

The man's screams. 

Your ears ring trying to drown the screeches out. 

You couldn't stop your blubbering no matter how many glares Feitan sent your way. Your shoulders shaking and stomach in knots as you were continuously forced to swallow your own vomit to not make a mess, or ensue Feitan's wrath. Because you'd dealt with his cold shoulder or an occasional sprained limb from how strong he was. Used to his harsh words and threats, and invading eyes watching your every move when not locked in the attic. But you didn't want to be on that table, no matter what. 

The man was inconsolable as Feitan grabbed a pair of pliers, snapping them over and over as he crept closer. A heavy whirl of silence, of anticipation- the calm before the storm really before Feitan used the pliers to grasp the captive's fingernail. One after another. Scream after scream. Blood. A sickening ripping noise before tossing them to a palette. 

Oh the man was a mess. Voice hoarse with tears and saliva dripping down the side of his face as he begged for an end. Begged to die compared to the start for a reprise. 

"Please- just kill me "

Feitan's head cocked, eyes darkening, "talk."

"No."

Feitan doesn't like hearing no, you know that. You've felt his silent anger when you'd cry and shriek- because you weren't doing what he wanted. And in that basement watching a man's blood splatter about, you realized you were all out of his good graces he was willing to give. Like his self awareness that you needed time to adjust finally reached its end. Because a wild thump came down with the force of a thousand suns, and three fingers toppled to the ground with crimson red spurting like a wild rose. 

"Who moved merchandise?" Feitan hissed as he grasped another gruesome looking tool with his thin fingers. 

"Go to hell," 

Rage. A sharp crack sounded as a molar went flying with a clatter across the room. It enraged him, all the defiance this captive had, for your first showcase of his work. So maybe he was embarrassed as he seethed from his pores, muscles tensed as an iron poker bent from his sheer will. He could hear your cries. Pathetic. 

As he turned to you- you were cowering in the chair, with your head in your hands. Rocking back and forth as you blubbered about. 

You weren't watching. 

The man wasn't cracking and Feitan's patience expired. With limbs now missing and blood soaking the floor surrounding them, he knew the man had been serious about dying rather than spilling information. 

So his focus was on you. 

With horror your head snapped up as a nasty crunching noise forced vomit up your dried throat, the man's neck snapping in half, head falling limp with a bouncy recoil. 

"Oh," you whimpered, you shrunk back as humanly possible. Coated in red, with anger, Feitan stalked his way to you. 

You stumbled from the chair, your flight kicking in for the first time since he'd brought you here. Crawling and kicking until your back hit the wall and the tears stream heavier than before, like you were smack dab in a horror movie. His grim eyes preying on you like you were nothing but a snack, a glimmering blade at his side that has you quaking. Terror as he stood over you. 

"Not watching." He hissed. 

"I'm sorry! N-ext time!" You cried, holding your hands up in a meek defense, "I'll be better,"

Feitan was high on adrenaline. Enraged by the lack of pleasure his torture session brought. Frustrated by your reaction. How scared you were of him when all he was trying to do was include you in his work, something he loved. Something he wanted you to watch with pride.

You shriek as he grabs hold of your legs, yanking you toward him. Preying on you like a monster as he crouched down to put weight on you, knife in hand. Such a sadistic look in his eyes as he ripped your shirt up enough to show him your rib cage. Legs flailing. Arms weakly hitting at him. But he didn't move. Feitan brought the tip of the knife down to your skin and you went limp with shock. No noise left your mouth after a few seconds until a throaty, airy cry sounded out with spasming of your eyes following. Blood trickled down your stomach as Feitan carved letter after letter against your pained jerks. Begging. Sobbing. You were a mess underneath him as your vision began to falter as terror and agony washed over you making you numb. 

"Next time, tie you on chair to watch." Feitan said with a smirk, possessively tracing the bloody gash that spelled out his name on your delicate skin. All you could do was cry and wheeze in and out of consciousness. 

And as you finally went limp, a heavy breath shuddered from Feitan's lips as the reality set in. He grimaced. It was pure adrenaline and anger that he acted on, and the aftermath was a sickening regret bubbling in his chest. Hurting you wasn't something he wanted to do again.. unless absolutely necessary. 

-

The following months you grew familiar with the schedule of when Feitan brought his victims and wanted you to watch. 

Perhaps you were too sensitive. Too much of an empath as each incision he made into a captive, you felt the carving of his name burn on your skin. Like a searing branding of understanding their pain, to an extent, that they went through. An understanding of being a victim like them, but you were luckier in a sick sense because you had Feitan's mercy of love. If you could call it that no matter how many times he insisted he took you for protection because you were his. 

Life with Feitan could be like living with a bomb, never knowing when or why it set off. Somedays you didn't look at him enough, others you stared too long and when his cheeks turned pink and he grew vicious. Learning his habits or moods was hard, but slowly you became accustomed.

Feitan liked to touch your waist, specifically shoving his hands under your shirt to feel your skin. His fingers would grip and prod even if you flinched from a sudden pinch. His greatest show of care was patting your head. He started doing so after you convinced him to let you take over meals, reminding him you always cooked for yourself prior. In another life basically. Then out of the blue Feitan took your things from the attic and into his room. You'd panicked looking for your missing plushies you needed to sleep, your missing pillow and favorite blanket. The dresser and closet were empty. Your toiletries were gone. Oh. Your heart sank, Feitan had enough of you. You were going to die. 

So you went back downstairs, ready for him to take you down to the basement and tie you up. You let your mind wander to what methods or tools he'd use. Maybe he'd be kind and make it quick. 

Feitan quirked a brow up as he saw your dejected form pad into the living room. You sat with a glazed, far away look on your face and immediately he panics. 

"Y/N?" To hear your name from his lips, made yours tremble.

"I'm sorry."

He was upon you within seconds, grasping at your arms to pull up your sleeves, "What's wrong? Hurt?"

"Are you going to kill me?"

A look of disgust flashed over his features, "No, never. You're mine."

"But my room?"

"Oh." Feitan's eyes immediately flit anywhere other than you, dropping your arms to rest on the couch. He was embarrassed and you're trying to figure out what's going on. "Moved into my room, figured you liked me more, things have been... nice."

Did you? Like him? Not particularly, right? Sure you liked the sound of his voice or when his eyes softened when you walked into the room. You thought the faces he made were cute asides from the maliciously crazy ones when he tortured somebody. And you were beginning to like feeling his touches, unsure advances that showed he was human in there somewhere. Because he wanted your approval, that much was apparent after all these months. Wanted you to watch him with pride and reassure he was touching you correctly, caring for you correctly. And perhaps you were flattered realizing how enthralled he was, how much he knew about you down to the most minor details. While you only knew he was a killer. So maybe you did like him in a twisted way, your brain fogging past details of cruelty and pushing up warm emotions instead. For your own good you needed to forget he forced you to watch others die, that he cut your own skin, that he might have killed your family. You bargained with yourself that perhaps him locking you in the attic was for your own good, that you needed to see Feitan in a better light and you only needed some time. Right?

"Oh!" Your relief is evident. And he looked happy to see that. "Oh my." You place your hand over your heart, breathing in and out. 

Feitan slowly rested a hand on top of your head, "Should have told you sooner... sorry."

"S'okay, misunderstanding. I'm good." 

Feitan nodded simply because he could feel your pulse begin to slow from its prior heightened pace, "Come." 

You followed behind him like a lost puppy needing its owner to find its way. Your heart felt at the bottom of your stomach, nervous to what Feitan had in mind moving you to his bedroom. The realization hit that you'd be in bed with him as you entered. His room was bare, which didn't surprise you. The only hint of life were your colorful blankets and plushies set up on the large bed. Two dressers, loveseat, and two doors you assumed were a bathroom and closet. Secretly you felt relief as it didn't smell of blood and there wasn't any sign of death.

Feitan watched you as you took your time to look around the room. He said nothing as you opened drawers to find your things, while some had his. The closet had more of your clothes. The ensuite was clean as well. He liked seeing you nod an approval of the space you'd share with him, filled him with pride. 

You sat on the bed. 

You felt along your blankets and then his own he originally had. You rearranged your stuffed doll. Fluffed your pillow. Not having changed out of the clothes you slept in last night, you decided not to change because you weren't sure what Feitan was expecting of you. Embarrassment licked the edges of your neck as you felt your palms begin to sweat. 

Terror coursed through your veins, your heart about to beat through your chest as you laid beside him. A few inches of space between the two of you. But it was suffocating as he joined you under the blanket. 

"Relax. Won't hurt you."

You gripped the sheets tighter, "Okay."

"Don't believe me."

"I'm sorry." You immediately countered, tensing.

Feitan sighed, trying to remember advice Chrollo gave him: to be more understanding and soft, "Sorry for cutting you few months ago, wanted you to see what I enjoy and you seemed not to care. But I enjoy you more so, only come to basement if you want now. Free reign over inside when I'm gone, just no hurting yourself. No going outside unless I'm with you."

Huh? "I- can go out?"

"With me."

"Can we go out tomorrow? Will it rain? Can I run around on the grass?" You were like a child in a candy store, excitement dripping through your tone that has Feitan's lips turning up in the dark. 

"If it rains tomorrow, go another time. Okay?"

"Yes. Perfect!" You were absolutely giddy, to the point personal space did not matter. You flung yourself across the bed to hug Feitan. Feeling his cold body you go still, filled you with horror realizing what you just did. "I'm sorry- I.."

Yet he wrapped an arm around you, ghosting along your skin like he was scared to scare you. He waited to see if you'd flinch away but you didn't. 

"Don't apologize, like this." He hugged you taut. 

There was nowhere to go but on him, really. You rested your head on his shoulder, forced to sprawl a leg across his own while your other wrenched beneath you. It felt like you may explode, a litany of conflicting emotions pulling you every which way. Hesitantly you placed your left hand across his chest, waiting for him to decide to hurt you or that this was taking it too far. But that never came. Feitan may have laid there like a statue, though after a few minutes he started squirming, attempting to relax with you in his arms while you listened to his wild heart beat.

You swallowed hard deciding to speak up, "I can move-"

"No." His words sounded laced with venom, but you could tell the slight difference. Feitan was nervous. Just like you were. 

Your lips parted but no words came out. The fact you were both enduring the same confusing emotions, unsure how to physically figure the other out, made you feel so close to him. He was on your level, just as scared. 

"Fei..tan?" You whispered his name, realization blossomed inside you and it was as if the last eight, maybe nine months were finally making sense!

"Yes?" It sounded, at least to you, like he was choking up.

"I- think I realize something. I think we're both awkward people and you didn't know how to go about any of this. Please hear me out." Boldly you pushed yourself out of his grip, pushing up on his chest so you could prop on your knees under the blanket. Feitan followed suit by sitting up to lean against the bed, quickly pulling the bedside lamp's string. He stared at you expectantly. So you continued with his full attention and the sudden coolness of losing his touch, "I think we feel the same way, not sure how to act around the other. I- don't get mad at me saying but you're very rough around the edges and I don't think anyone ever explained you shouldn't kidnap someone you love, or hurt them. But feeling your nerves, I'm realizing we're the same. I never know how to act around you, I thought you hated me or something but you're nervous too."

Your tongue felt numb as you spilled as many words as possible. Unsure if you made sense. Unable to look at Feitan as you spoke. 

He was quiet until a hand touched your cheek, "You- feel for me how I feel for you?"

You nod. 

Feitan brought your chin up so your gazes could connect. There was no maliciousness, only nerves. His lips aren't in their normal frown, instead they're slightly parted. He pulled you closer, hating that you chose to sit inches too far for his taste, having been in his arms prior. 

You let out a whine as Feitan leaned in, his breath fanning along your lips. Your body was begging for him to close the gap, your stomach a fluttering mess of butterflies working its way through your ribcage. Blood pounded in your ears, 

"Feitan?"

"Quiet." Fingers shake as you bring them to run through his black locks, causing a shiver to go down his spine and the smallest of noises to come from his throat. You found something he enjoyed and your heart felt content as you massaged along his scalp as his lips lay centimeters from yours.

The kiss was hesitant. Barely a peck as the touch of your lips had you both upright, shocked, staring at the other. Like a deer in headlights you waited for him to get upset, to kill you even. But he only captured your lips again, for a deeper kiss as your lips meshed together. His tongue pushed in, exploring your mouth greedily as he squeezed your waist. You made a noise as he flipped you underneath him, slamming his mouth back against yours as he pressed himself into you. 

When you two parted, gasping for air, uncertain as you each explored each other's bodies, a gentle smile pulled at the corners of your lips. Feitan licked along your jaw, licked down your neck occasionally sucking on your sensitive skin. You whimpered and he pulled away as if you'd stabbed him.

"Liked.. that?" When you nodded his eyes glossed over. You liked it as he sucked and bit at your neck. What other pain could he inflict to bring you pleasure? You really were made for him, he told himself. 

You reach up to try to take one of his hands into yours, he obliged, put his weight on his other forearm, "So.. I.." Embarrassment hit you and you suddenly felt ridiculous for what you were about to ask.

"What."

"Are we..?"

"Don't understand."

Your face went red, you looked away still feeling his breath across your face, "Never mind."

"Go to sleep, you're thinking too hard." Feitan huffed as he rolled off you, "Taking you outside tomorrow, you need rest."

"Okay."

To your surprise he hugged you from behind, nestling up to you, letting you slot into him as if it were the perfect fit. You could tell this was new, not something he did from how tense his body was. Sleep finally began to overtake your senses. A blossoming happiness in your chest as he traced a finger along your skin whilst holding your waist. 

You fell asleep with a smile. Fell asleep with your back to his chest, him spooning you as if this was suddenly normal. As if you were an ordinary couple. You found comfort in his quiet breaths and knowing he'd watch over you. That night you dreamed of the day you met Feitan, and it changed, no longer was it filled with blood and cries, but a joy as if it were love at first sight. You two hand in hand walking off to a new life. 

-

That morning you awoke with not a care in the world. You thought waking up to an empty bed would hurt, but nothing would diminish the smile smacked onto your lips. From an amazing dream to remembering your first kiss with Feitan, nothing could have taken that away. Giddy, you dressed in your most comfortable outfit and skipped out to face the rest of your day with excitement, feeling lighter than ever. The normal weight and anxiety you woke up with, was gone, replaced with a sense of purpose.  

A list formed in your head of what you wanted to do. 1. Check the weather and if Feitan doesn't have to work, 2. Make breakfast, 3. Go outside.

The morning sun was strong amidst the blue, cloudless sky as you stared out the kitchen window. You grinned before grabbing ingredients you'd need for breakfast, hoping Feitan would be joining, but regardless you'd cook for him. You worked with a hop in your step, movements nonchalant as you continued to glance at the mid-morning sky. Too focused to feel a presence hidden, watching, until- 

"You look... happy." 

You squeaked, jumping at the sudden voice. You felt his dark aura first before you turned to see him, standing in the doorway, "Good morning. Hungry?"

Feitan nodded, inching over to the table. Your smile ignites a pain in his chest that he didn't understand. As he looked over you, all he could think about was his lips on yours and the addiction of it that stained his blood. How you'd snuggled into him. How in your sleep you'd begged him not to leave you. Feitan doesn't think he likes the churning in his stomach or the nerves coursing through him as he looks at you- it scares him. You had the power to turn him into this. 

"Made scrambled eggs and toast, that okay?" You set a plate in front of him, creases at the corner of your eyes as you do so. 

"Yes." He watched as you got him something to drink, then sat down with your own food. On the tip of his tongue are questions about last night, but Feitan felt ridiculous asking if you liked kissing him, or if he could do it again.

"Is it okay? Made it kind of quick, it's a nice day out." You smiled warmly at him, expectantly.

"Yes, good. We'll go outside when you're done."

He remembered and was following through, it meant the world to you. So you finish eating to clean up, which he surprised you by doing himself.

You were like an excited puppy standing by the front door bouncing on the balls of your feet. 

"Stay in my sight. Can't run anywhere without me finding."

"I know I know. Can I run around the yard at least?"

"Sure." His threat went right over your head. It hits him that you don't need a threat to stay put. You weren't planning anything. 

It didn't take long to undo the litany of locks on the door, it didn't matter if you knew where any keys were kept. Nen was the key factor to them.

He had to urge you out, that it really was okay to be outside, "Go out, I'll be sitting right here." He said rubbing the low of your back. 

After a few grueling seconds you comply, a small giggle as you hurry off the porch. There was pure glee on your face, in your body and voice as your feet touched the grass. Squealing you carefully move around, skipping one way then the other.

You were a curious thing to Feitan, who found nothing interesting in the nature that surrounded the house. But you, running around in circles until you collapsed out of breath, loved it. You looked serene, stunning, just taking the breath away from Feitan as he watched you. You were perfect. 

It hurt. It hurt. Feitan's convinced he was dying. Heaviness weighing on his chest and shoulders as he watched you. He didn't know how to be what you need. For the first time since kidnapping you he questions his judgment seeing how happy you were being outside, something he'd stolen from you. He wondered if he could give you the love you deserved when he'd never experienced it himself. While he hated himself. While he hated what was inside his darkened mind compared to the light that was you. So ethereal and kind, unlike him whose hands would forever be tainted. 

Unbeknownst to you, Feitan retreated within himself while you basked in the summer sun. 

-

Five weeks ago Feitan kissed you. He'd taken you outside and it'd been one of the best days of your life. You were certain it was the turning point in the relationship but- it wasn't. Things weren't worse by any means, but he treated your touch like the plague. 

It felt like a continuous stab to the heart, every minute of the day at this point. You felt stupid. After a week of attempting physical contact in bed or on the couch, you gave up not wanting to further embarrass yourself. And slowly the conversation died out. He stopped eating meals at the table. Staying as far away as possible in bed, you began moving your pillows back up to the attic, which caused him to intervene. Making it clear you weren't permitted to do that, he locked the door to the attic shortly after.

He left two weeks ago for an important job. You only knew he was okay because Phinks stopped by to check on you and bring food. It took everything in you not to ask Phinks for advice, you'd only met him in passing and Feitan was... absurdly possessive. Even his closest 'friend' couldn't get within a foot of you without facing Feitan's wrath. 

So you spent the days alone re-reading a book because you can't quite pay attention to it. You spend too long staring out the window by the front door, yearning pathetically from the couch. Knowing there were cameras kept you from crying for a strange reason you couldn't pinpoint, perhaps wanting to seem strong if he checked in. 

You think it's Friday, 16 days since Feitan left. Time blended together, especially when he wasn't there to mark the calendar. 

Frustration bubbled in your chest as you threw your towel into the corner of the bathroom. Your wet hair seeps into your nightgown, purple hues taking over the blue sky. You want to throw your shampoo, then your body wash you think. For a second you felt the appeal of thrashing your fist into the sink mirror. How good that would feel, you'd have control over something. 

Breathe in. Out.

You count in your head, staring at your reflection with disgust. This would show him, right? You thought about him finding you all bloody, the panic that would consume him, and hopefully guilt too. 

Tears prick your eyes, you huff moving back. Your reflection blurred. Annoyance grew, controlled her until-

SLAM. The sound of the front door closed suddenly, announcing that Feitan was back- and in the manner the door slammed, told you he wasn't alone. 

You scamper out of the bathroom, practically forgetting your prior plans, needing to catch a glimpse of Feitan.

In his arms, he carried an unconscious woman bound and gagged. 

Your stomach plummeted. 

He glanced your way once before disappearing down to the basement. 

Lips trembling, you stumbled forward, acting against better judgment. The air leading down to Feitan's torture room was dense and metallic scented. Rotted and death-like. You hated it down there, you felt bile rise up into your throat but you pushed through the fear that begged you to turn back. 

You stood hidden behind the doorway, peaking in just so you could see Feitan had already finished tying her down in the chair. You weren't sure if he felt your presence as if he did he made no effort to greet you. Did he not miss you? Your fists clench as you rake across the battered woman, taking her in. She was beautiful. Fuck. The only relief you felt was that she sat in that chair- meaning she wasn't here to replace you. Feitan hadn't put you in that chair ever. 

You stepped through the doorway as Feitan picked up a knife from a table.

Feitan's head snapped in your direction. His body language went taut, surprised, so he hadn't noticed you. He'd been too wrapped up in the woman who passed you in beauty in every way possible. Did he notice that as he looked at you now? Self conscious thoughts attack your mind as you drop your head. 

"You're- you want to watch?" His voice was filled with hope, not that you noticed. You heard it as disgust by having you in the room.

You nod, drop into your chair beside the door, one you hadn't sat in, in five weeks. 

For the first time he didn't need to remind you to watch his every action. 

Your eyes couldn't be pried from his hands. He wondered if you were even blinking. What happened for this change? Feitan wracked his brain as he cut into the woman. He didn't notice what he was doing, hardly listening to her cries and shit information spilling from her lips. Did something happen to you? Phinks said you were fine. Feitan's thoughts flick to his recent closed-off behavior, knowing it had to be upsetting you. Shit. That was it, right? He moved on to more cuts, more stabs to bleed his prisoner dry. She was saying things he already knew, he told Chrollo this woman would be useless, so this was a waste. Why were you choosing to watch this? He wanted to look at you but also needed to finish work, for once torturing another being was boring him. He wanted to get back to you, needed to talk to you, apologize even. 

SLAM. 

You were reeling- unable to contain yourself as you stormed from the room. One second your eyes were flickering from floor to the captive's body following Feitan's every movement, to watching the walls of the basement fly by as you raced towards a bathroom. 

Disgust curdled inside you. Anger wrenched at your limbs. You fumed as you remembered how he touched that woman's body as if torturing her was a sensual dance. It made you sick to see how his fingers would flit along parts of her skin that you dreamed he'd touch on yourself.  He hadn't looked at you! You gagged over the toilet, head pounding as your body attempted to heave bile from your stomach. Dizzied with jealousy and hurt, you want to cry. Maybe attempt to slap Feitan if he'd let you. You think of your idea with the mirror, that could work.

Feitan stood outside the door, as soon as you opened it, you walked face first into his chest. Out of reflex you shoved him back, wide eyed at him. 

"What's wrong? Throw up?" There was concern written all over him. Actual legitimate emotion, softness in his face as he inched closer. 

"Dry heaved." You said, unable to hold back the snark in your tone. 

"Okay?" 

You glared, confidence surging within you as all you could see was green. Feitan took a step back, surprised. "Seriously?" You huffed, "Just go back to your work." 

As you turn to leave him standing dumbfounded in the hall to head upstairs, his hand wrapped around your bicep. You're pulled back with force that makes you lose your breath. Your back's forced against the stone wall, Feitan caging you between his arms. "What is wrong with you?"

You swallow, the lump in your throat refusing to go. You felt instant shame with yourself but yet- didn't he deserve your anger? Was he really that dense with your emotions? Squaring yourself, you wouldn't back down, "I'm fine. Just.. go back to her." 

Oh! "Funny girl." Feitan cackled. A shallow, chill inducing laugh escaped his lips. 

Incredulously you shook your head, "Why are you laughing?"

He pushed himself off the wall and away from you. Still fucking laughing. 

You balled your fists and walked over to him, fuming. "Stop it!" He let you hit his chest with your fists, let you throw your little temper tantrum as amusement danced in his dark eyes. 

It was when tears began to fall did he finally compose himself. Feitan wiped the stray tears and wouldn't let you look away from him, hand possessively holding your jaw. "Jealous." He smirked. "My silly girl jealous over my work. Work, Y/N."

"I-It's not that- not the same. You've.. You've never brought a girl back here before." Oh god if only you could curl up under a blanket and hide, shame crossing your face, "It's not funny." 

"How is it not? You're jealous over someone who will die."

"You're touching her." You spat, "You don't touch me, barely. Not after.. I thought." Taking a deep breath you collected yourself before beginning, "Since you moved me into your room, since we kissed and fell asleep together, you act like it never happened and ignore me for weeks. So yes I'm jealous of her, you're touching her so gently and in places I want you to touch me."

Your confession threw Feitan off his axis, processing your words at a million miles an hour yet it was like he stared at you brain dead. He really fucked this up. "I'm not being gentle. I'm torturing her." He did not understand how you thought he was being intimate with a prisoner, it killed him to stay away from you. 

"But you brush along her so gently before making cuts, I thought I was going to die!" And he'd skipped past the part where you brought up the kiss and how he'd held you. Of course, "I'm going to go take a nap."

He let you go, watching your dejected form march up the wooden stairs. His brows furrowed over what the fuck just happened. He'd let you storm off and speak to him in a way he'd never imagine you would.  

Feitan clenched his fists. He wanted to follow after you but there was one final thing he needed to take care of. 

Red cascaded down the front of the woman as he slit her throat. Her tears and pleading only fueling the fire started within him. He stripped himself of his gear, leaving him blood free to chase after you.

You don't move from where you lay under the covers in his bed, but Feitan knew you weren't asleep. He pads to the bed, carefully sitting on the edge next to you.

"Y/N."

You don't respond.

He sighed, "She's dead." You visibly tensed. 

You begrudgingly sit up knowing you've been caught, looking at him with reddened eyes. "Oh."

Feitan tucked a loose piece of hair behind your ear, "Since our kiss, I don't know how to act around you."

His omission makes you frown, "I don't understand."

"When you said you felt for me how I felt for you.. made me happy. You kissed me back, wanted me to hold you. I didn't expect it, thought you'd regret it later so I ran."

"I thought you regretted it." 

"Never."

"I feel.. dumb." You said. 

"Little foolish. But, I like that. Your jealousy is cute." He smirked, "But no reason to be anymore, okay?" You nod, scooting closer to him. Feitan tucks an arm around you, cradling the side of your head, "Was happy you came down to watch but, guess I know why now."

"Maybe I can.. slowly come down for little bits? I- don't like it but, you like it when I watch you work." You're burning, nauseas, because the last thing you wanted was to listen to screams, to bones breaking, to the noises that'd keep you up at night. But it would be for Feitan.

"I would like that." He nodded with sick excitement behind his eyes. 

Silence. Softened smiles. Fluttering heart beats as a thick tension develops between you two. He was staring at your lips, your neck, and you couldn't tear yourself away from him. Closer, you silently lean in as your breathing turns heavy. You were sure he could hear your hammering heart beat as if it'd burst from your chest.

The gap closed. Your lips meet in a dance of uncertainty as self consciousness absorbs your minds until it bursts from need. Feitan was cold, certain as he pressed his lips hard to yours over and over, teeth tugging on your bottom lip. On fire as you gasp from the pain, metallic blood enters your mouth as Feitan's tongue pushes its way in. He explored you as his fingers dig into your side, your tongue dancing along his as electricity runs through your veins. You think your whole body is trembling, or maybe it was his as the kiss turned desperate, teeth gnashing, tongues shoved down the other's throat as saliva mixed; once light kisses turned to an all out way for the two of you to claim the other. 

Feitan helped your legs wrap around his waist before he flipped you underneath him hovering over you on the bed. His whimpers against your mouth were the greatest thing you think you'll ever hear. And his need to control you, to possess you as his made your head go cloudy with want as his mouth worked against yours. He was consuming you as his confidence grew. That pit in his stomach growing with the certainty of your feelings, the change of the tide after nine months, that he felt. You wanted him. You understood everything he'd done had been to show you his feelings. So now he'd claim you like he should have weeks ago, rather than worry about the kiss. 

Atop you, he watched with dark glee how you panted, mewled for him as he pulled away to watch you. You clambered for him as you were out of breath, saliva dripping from the side of your lips. In a swift motion he lifted your torso and pulled your shirt from your body, and as he pushed you back he leaned down entranced by your bare skin. He bit into your collarbone, licked along the mark that broke skin. You'd gasped in surprise, fingers twisting into his top, tears glistening in your eyes. 

He continued to mark you, your cries music to him as he broke more of your skin with his teeth. Blood trickling only to be licked up by Feitan. You'd be littered with hickeys in the morning and the thought of you all bruised up made his cock twitch. Feitan slowly nibbled along one of your hardened nipples, studying how your body reacted. You were a desperate little thing he learned quickly as he sucked on your nipples, groping and molding your breasts with his strong fingers. Already quaking- how pathetic. 

Feitan began to wonder if you'd done this before, because in the year he'd watched you, you never brought someone home or went to another's. But a possessive streak hits him and he doesn't want to know, because no one else would ever have you from here on out. He was going to make your cunt into the shape of his cock, make it so you'd never want or need anyone else. 

"Fei," You whined, and the usage of a nickname made his head snap up to meet your lidded eyes. Your hips bucked against his as he straddled you and the discomfort of his hardened cock in his slacks began to gnaw at his brain. 

As his fingers begin to toy with your waist band, he lets himself wonder if this was a dream. He'd have been as patient as you needed him to be. So to think everything he dreamed about for almost 2 years was coming to fruition? He stripped himself of his top and slacks, leaving only his underwear. 

Fear clamped in the back of your mind as if you needed to escape. But as the cool air met your exposed entrance as Feitan tossed your boxers away, you relinquished yourself to him. He admired you from his knees as he pushed your thighs apart. 

"Tell me what you want." A mischievous glint shone in his eyes and you shivered. 

"Y-you Feitan." You squirmed under his heavy gaze, desperately wanting to cover up. He inspected every inch of you, but he always came back to the scar on your rib cage that held his name. His property. 

Feitan shuddered hearing how lustfully you spoke his name, he liked this sudden change in dynamic. Liked how you begged for him so easily as he stroked so close but not quite at your most sensitive areas. Your pussy glistened, liquid coating your folds and slowly dripping to the sheets. 

You could only see his dark eyes as your world spun on its axis. You feel him between your legs, tongue leisurely licking along your aching clit. Taking his time he listened to your whimpers, to your gasps as he changed the pace. You're grasping the sheets, knuckles white as your entrance fluttered in want. He latched onto your clit, and you cried as he suckled and teeth brushed along your sensitive bundle of nerves. Working you up to a climax, he presses his palms into your legs to keep them open. You're shaking. You're desperately trying to escape an onslaught your poor brain and body had never experienced before. It wasn't longer before you cried out, visiting turning black then white as you came, hips jerking and your lips babbling nonsense. Feitan continued to lick helping you come down, pride beaming from his chest. Internally thanking Phinks for all the times over the years he pushed him into sharing someone's bed, that he needed practice, all for you even if he didn't know it yet. 

You moaned, furiously blinking before his tongue dances along your folds, licking and sucking at your cum like it's the best meal he'd ever taste. Tongue prodding at your entrance, his gaze flicks up to see you watch him in awe and pleasure, as he licks along your walls. Your clit is puffy as he worked his way back up, a finger delicately toying at your entrance as you gasp. More? 

Feitan hummed against your clit, liquid pleasure pulsing within him but all he could do was grind against the mattress, he wanted to see you come apart some more. You babble something incoherent as he brings a finger up and covers it in your arousal, gently sucking still. His middle finger sunk in with ease, your back arching as he fills you. He adds another. He smiled so cruelly as your heat welcomed them so greedily. 

"Tight cunt." Feitan groaned, "So wet. Taste so good." He hummed against your clit and the vibrations made you whimper. 

You're moaning for him like he was your life line. Sucking him in and begging for more and you were starting to wonder which way was up or down. His tongue oscillating in mesmerizing circles along your clit, his fingers curling along your gummy walls that beg him for more. You were on the edge. You felt pleasure building you up so deliciously, "Fei, more, more, feel good." 

For a second he froze as one of your hands tangle in his hair, but seeing you blissed out in his bed- he made you nearly sob as added a third finger stretching you apart as he cruelly sucked your clit until your moans are cries, gasping and loud, as if you were in pain. But instead, once more, ecstasy blossomed in your abdomen right as you thought you'd burst, and tears fell fast. You came on his tongue and fingers, squirt dribbling, your cunt fluttering around him as his motions slowed. 

"Pretty." He cooed as he watched your writhing body with curiosity. 

A confused cry left you as his touch disappeared, but you watched as he stripped himself of his underwear, finally leaving him bare. 

"Gonna fuck you. All mine." 

You whimper as he settles between your legs, his thick cockhead prodding at your slick entrance. 

"Be good and take me." Feitan grunted as he began to push in. 

"F-Fei- Virgin- I-I'm a-" You cried as you thrashed on the sheets, feeling as if Feitan was splitting you in two as he sheathed himself inside you.

An onslaught of butterflies swarmed in his stomach and could have come on the spot from your words alone. A virgin? He knew you were meant to be his, and him yours. 

"There you go, tight cunt for me to fill." He pressed his lips to yours, knots in his core tightened as he thrusted deeper, hips to the hilt as he was finally claiming you, filling you. 

He watched your eyes go wide, eyes spasming from the intrusion. Your gummy walls squeezing his cock so good as she attempted to accommodate his size. Feitan swallowed hard, trying to stifle his own noises, desperately wanting to be so far in you that you'd never think of anything else. 

Blood trickled from your cunt and onto the sheets and it stirred Feitan's hips into a bruising pace as he felt the warmth of your virgin blood surrounding his cock. Liked knowing what he did to you, watching his outline in your stomach as he pushed down, a slimy grin forming on his lips. 

He wanted to break you. But he felt himself losing composure as he pounded into your tight cunt. The two of you consumed with warmth and fire spreading along your nerves as together, you chased an intense high consummating some sick love. 

"Mine." You were losing your mind as Feitan grunted those words, "Mine." He snapped his hips and you gasped from the intrusion of his cock against your womb, "Tell me who you belong to."

Your pretty eyes were hazy, rolling back into your head as your poor fucked out brain couldn't comprehend. His cock felt so perfect inside your pussy that coated him in your cream from the bliss you felt. 

"You!" You cry out, "Fei- Feitan. You! I'm yours." You sobbed, only his name on your tongue and on your mind. 

Feitan relished in the sight of his cock fucking into you, disappearing into your depth, his hips flushed with your own. And each time he pulled out, the sight of your bloodied cum on his length made him shudder. He gathered your discharge on his thumb and used it to coat your clit, relentlessly rubbing over it. His hips started to move again, desperately forcing himself deeper as he played with your bud. Your cunt spasming around him again as you attempted to escape his onslaught of overstimulation. 

"T-Too much- can't Fei-"

"Never push me away," He threatened, leaning down to nip at your ear, "Will punish you."

You whimpered but the way your cunt opened up for him told him all he needed to know-- the pain, the helplessness, he was turning you on. Straightening again he continued to fuck into you, swiping over your clit, far past the point of pleasing you, rough thrusts hitting your g-spot over and over. You let out an honest to god cry as your third orgasm hit, words thick and hard to understand but Feitan understood how you begged and pleaded for him. 

Feitan gripped your hips harder so he could drive into you at a relentless pace, throwing his head back, looking up to the ceiling as he gave you all he had. You pulsed around him all swollen and tight and he knew he wouldn't last much longer,

"Gonna fill you up. Take my cum in your pussy. Mine. My pussy- you're mine." Feitan was past the point of keeping quiet as his possessiveness slammed into him full force. The thought of his cum painting your insides and leaking out... 

Falling forward he crushed his mouth onto yours, giving several long thrusts before his vision whited out as he came. Cock twitching as he filled you to the brim, hips stuttering all the way against you, hot, thick ropes of cum coating you. Claiming you. Becoming one with you. 

His pace slowed but his lips never left yours, the two of you panting into each other as you came down. Feitan pulled away, resting his forehead to yours, your eyes meeting. Vulnerability. Like truly seeing each other for the first time. He stroked your cheekbones carefully, trying to sense any fear. But nothing. Your eyes shone with a million stars as you shuddered, staring at him, hips twitching as he pulled out. Leaving you emptier than you'd ever been. 

Feitan pulled away, dropping back to his knees, carefully stroking along where he'd carved his name into your skin, stroking down your waist then to your thighs. His touch cold, addictive as he thumbed along your leaking folds, his cum beginning to drip down. "Mine."

"Yours."

He stared at you before his cheeks tinted pink, "I'm yours too. Only yours. Don't care about stupid woman I tortured, just my job. You're my.. life. Won't give you space again, won't run if I get scared, this was all my fault, I didn't want to bring you pain. I'll make it up to you." 

Your eyes widen with love filling them, a stupidly happy grin washing over you from the gravity of his words, "I love you." 

Feitan froze like he was in head on collision, by your proclamation. Love. Did he deserve that? No. He didn't deserve your love but he couldn't deny the happiness he felt in his chest and how his pulse skyrocketed, "Love you as well."

Feitan laid at your side, stroking along your body as sleep eventually overcame you. You seemed so innocent, so small lying in his arms like that. Watching you sleep was a favorite pastime, but knowing you slumbered with his cum buried in you was enough to entrance him back into your gravity. 

Your passed out form hardly reacted to his touches, soft moans as he slid his fingers in and out of your leaking cunt. Little twitches as he sucked on your nipples. And you stayed asleep as he slipped his re-hardened cock back inside of your abused cunt, full heartedly welcoming him in. 

The bed creaked and thumped against the wall as he let loose, let his grunt and sobs loudly leave him as he fucked you full once more. This was heaven. Pure bliss. Not even torturing made him feel this way, so high, so invincible. Feitan indulged in you until he was a whiny overstimulated mess, heaving atop you and leaving even more marks. He fucked you until he couldn't cum anymore, dumping two more loads into your pussy that became swollen and tight, a perfect fit for his cock. 

It was then that he could finally sleep, curled up next to your limp body holding you flush. He pet your hair possessively as you subconsciously cuddled into him further, blood pounding in his ears. The fact you'd been jealous made his chest soar. You hated someone for having his attention because you wanted it. You loved him for him. And it was then that he could finally drift off to sleep, content knowing you were filled with him. His.

[monamipencil]

─── seventeen masterlist ;

DISCLAIMER; these are works of fiction. the idols mentioned are merely placeholders for characters.

keys; [a] - angst | [f] - fluff | [s] - suggestive | [n] - nsfw | [d] - darker/taboo content

⋆ choi seungcheol

001 ... jealous rival! seungcheol — part 1 ; part 2 | [n]

002 ... mission; steal his dimples | [f]

003 ... ass lover! cheol | [n]

004 ... illicit affairs | [n] [d]

005 ... [22:30] | [f]

006 ... baby fever | [f]

007 ... bet | ft. wonwoo [n]

⋆ yoon jeonghan

001 ... han + edging | [n]

⋆ hong joshua

001 ... choking hazard | [n]

⋆ wen junhui

001 ... on love and sandwiches | [f]

⋆ kwon soonyoung

001 ... [21:54] | [f] [dad! soonyoung]

⋆ lee jihoon

001 ... hello-kitty keychains and annoying co-workers | [f]

⋆ jeon wonwoo

001 ... teasing wonwoo with a fleshlight | [n]

002 ... part-time lovers (not really) | [n] [f]

003 ... right here | [n] [d] [a] [f]

004 ... loser! wonwoo | [n] [f]

005 ... bet | ft. seungcheol [n]

006 ... on love and cats | [f]

⋆ kim mingyu

001 ... jealousy, jealousy | [n]

002 ... an ode to mingyu's tiddies | [n]

003 ... [7:05] | [f2l] [f]

004 ... mingyu + squirting | [n]

005 ... dilf neighbor! mingyu | [n]

006 ... big boy! | [n]

⋆ lee seokmin

001 ... angel eyes | [n] [a] [f]

⋆ chwe vernon

001 ... on dying stars and love | [a] [f?]

⋆ lee chan

001 ... sub! chan who's only comfort is your tits | [n]

002 ... venus in furs | [n] [f]

⋆ reactions & headcanons

001 ... asking them if you can tie a bow on 'it' — 95z | 96z | 97z | maknaez | [n]

002 ... reaction to you tripping and falling publicly | [f]

003 ... walking in on them watching porn | [n] [s]

004 ... svt appreciates your beauty (imperfections series) — hyung line | maknae line | [f] [a]

005 ... mtl to flip you over during a makeout session | [n]

006 ... things they do in bed (other places too) — hhu | [n]

007 ... telling them that you have a crush on them — hhu | [f]

⋆ extras

001 ... svt & nsfw twt links — part 1 ; part 2 | [n]

⟶ go back or check out my [ old masterlist ]

[theredofoctober]

MANNA- CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: APPLE

Dark!Hannibal Lecter x Reader x Dark!Will Graham AU fic

TW for eating disorders, noncon, abuse, Daddy kink, cannibalism mentions, murder mentions, violence, blood

Read after the cut

---

Samhain falls upon the house like the red tongue of night, the rooms hung with bones and branches and the glinting skulls of animals, a morbid elegance to the season's ode.

Hannibal allows you to stand at a partially open window to sniff at the dark musk of the air which like some skilled perfumer you split of its ingredients with a discerning nose: rain in the earth, still pools of gingery leaves, the wind that scuttles the panes in its mischief, and the brew of an oncoming storm, a scent like fire and thunder.

"When exactly am I allowed to go outside again?" you ask, hanging a woeful head as far from the window as Hannibal will allow.

"When I can trust you to stay at my side or return to me," he says, and he draws you gently in again and shuts the latch upon the world.

You gaze at him, wistful and resentful; never, then, you think, unless you have nowhere else to go.

Yet with Will's arrival suspended over you like the immutable certainty of execution you wonder if perhaps you may well leave this dwelling, if only as meat carried in the case of some guest's stomach.

Hannibal surely notices your pensive mood, yet he does not address it, considering it some shade of your illness behind you, perhaps, or else pouting reproach that he had turned you across his knee that morning for hiding a pancake in the sleeve of your pyjamas.

He’d struck you lightly, no more than four times, at that, merely enough to spur a smarting star at your sex in some primitive answer to your embarrassment.

"It appears that I've overexcited you," Hannibal had said, rather seriously. "What is to be done about that?"

He had brought you up into his lap, your back to his crimson velvet dressing gown, and had delivered the rule of his punishment until you ran with the white ink of it, beating your heels against his calves in a pointless drum of hatred.

How sweetly he had set you down, then, touching your sulking lip with his own mouth until you'd kissed him in return to be rid of him.

"I want a bath," you'd said, and he had chuckled.

"As do I."

He'd brought you atop him again in the tub, the slippery passage of his hands pleasant upon you, and you'd wished you’d had the strength to shove him low under the suds to drown him.

But then orgasm had humbled you in your ruminations of revenge, and you’d allowed him to towel you and pull a pinafore over your head with lowered eyes, defeated.

As you’d done so you’d considered if you’d prefer your fathers to raise you in savagery alone, followers of Dionysus tearing apart a grieving Orpheus; you’ve myth on the mind, and all of it at the junctures of dying.

But you are enamoured now by the luxuries of life and body they festoon about you, and to revoke them for the sake of hubris would be to spit yourself in the eye.

You will take their gifts, you decide, even the twist of forbidden climax until you’re away from the house.

This, at least, you deserve from them, a reward for a gruelling actor’s work.

Now you await Will's arrival in the living room, staring with a perpetual absence of inspiration at the bare leaves of your journal as Hannibal oversees this activity from a narrow distance.

You've been continually defended against his evils by Will's attachment to you, yet should he choose to turn on the monster you may go down with him, taken off over Hannibal’s shoulder to some unknown country, or else killed and so tossed to the wolves of the press for their fodder.

It had been a fool’s hope to think that Will would betray his friend and bring down the Bureau in a surge of his most righteous instincts. Still there may yet be some chance of it, for as he enters at the front door you interpret from the brusque landing of his footfalls the extent of his wounded temper.

A sick pass of cold raises the hairs on your arms, and Hannibal gets up from peeling an apple for you with a pretty little knife to drape a blanket about your shoulders.

“If you’d agree to gain some modest weight you wouldn’t suffer like this,” he says, then glances up, distracted, as Will clears his throat at the threshold.

He is severe, almost refined in an expensive black sweater and jeans, his hair—worn in a shorter cut—combed back from his forehead in a gelled wave. There is a new scent on him, not the ship-bottled spray of the norm but something deep and rich, reminiscent of libraries and dark, polished wood.

You’re so startled by the alteration in him that you release a nervy giggle, shielding your mouth behind a hand as Will’s eyes glide coolly over you.

"Hello, Will,” says Hannibal. “I'm glad that you could make the time to see us.”

Will nods shortly, his critical gaze panning the room.

"You decorated,” he says. “Do you celebrate Hallowe'en in Lithuania?"

"Traditionally, we do not. But I've always enjoyed the holiday's pagan roots, the themes of warding away spirits at a time the wall between two worlds is thin."

The younger man's mouth quirks into something not quite a smile.

"That, and you just wanted to spoil her, as usual."

Hannibal's head tilts at a slight angle as he surveys Will’s expression.

"Our Little One has struggled as of late,” he says neutrally. “If I might lift her mood in this small way then I'm only glad to be of service."

He touches your shoulder, and in a panicked awkwardness you comment, "I really wish the decorations were on display all year. Hi, Daddy, by the way."

You stand up to kiss Will on the mouth, which he coldly allows, his arms tense as a general’s at his sides. He doesn’t meet your eyes as you look, imploring, into his, only pushes you lightly back into your seat and glances towards the kitchen.

"Something's cooking."

"Yes,” says Hannibal. “I thought a seasonal stew would be pleasant for this time of year."

"A stew,” Will repeats, with a hard, false innocence. “What's in it, specifically? Any particular ingredients I should know about?"

You glimpse suspicion descend over Hannibal like a winter dawn, his nostrils flaring.

"Would I be correct in thinking that there are unspoken layers to that question?”

"Seemed appropriate considering the undisclosed intentions behind some of the meals we've shared together, Dr Lecter."

You cannot yet tell whether he refers to the matter of meat or the other contents, nor does Hannibal, for though his hand returns to the apple knife it is only to cut the fruit into slender arches on a plate.

"You suspect me of poisoning you in some manner, I presume," he says, at last.

"This is beyond suspicion,” snaps Will. “You guessed that I had encephalitis— knew that I did. Probably sniffed it out the same way you've picked up on cancer, and you pretended ignorance. Comforted me while serving up anything you could think of to trigger another episode for your own entertainment. Riveted by the rat in the maze."

Hannibal makes no attempt to deny the accusation, merely continuing to cut the apple with slow, artful strokes of the wrist.

"She implicated me, I presume."

"Don't make this about her. I want to know why you did it.”

Will takes a step across the room, seeming drawn into habitual closeness to Hannibal despite his anger with him.

“I've remembered other things,” he says. “Bright lights. Your voice in my ear. Your hands on me. Moments that were already starting to surface. All this time you've been pulling my strings and I could never quite see it.”

Horror at his words torments you like some dungeon machine. You begin to shake, only the soft fabric of the couch cushioning the sound of your distress.

"You're aware of how close I've come to thinking I was responsible for murders I didn't commit,” says Will. “That I've contaminated crime scenes. Woken up at the side of the road with no idea what happened to me, or if I'd hurt someone. Hurt her—"

At this he jerks his newly sleek head towards you.

"That you would never have done,” says Hannibal.

"Don't try to comfort me with your empty platitudes. You wanted me to go over the edge. To make me kill again under different circumstances. Tell me I'm wrong."

The air in the room is all cinnamon and cyanide, the stench of lies dug up like a grave. Hannibal sets the plate of fruit before you and lifts his face to Will’s. When he speaks it is with the soft urgency of desperation, the equivalent of begging on his knees.

"I wanted to erode the barriers that prevent you from accessing your natural instincts. You've lived in seclusion, performing the dull actions of a self untrue to you merely to avoid facing and accepting that reality. I regret my methods, but my intentions were to nurture you into comprehending the remedy to your unhappiness.”

"You have pretty shoddy communication skills for a psychiatrist, Dr Lecter,” says Will, sharp with contempt.

"You believe that I should have asked you for your consent in this trial."

"Yes. Obviously."

You watch the two men with one hand clasped to your breastbone, feeling the lilt of your heart against your fingertips.

"I see,” says Hannibal. “Then why did you submit to waive that right in regards to our unhappy charge?”

"She needs this treatment to survive,” Will barks. “I survived for years without killing anyone. I don't need it."

"And what sort of existence was it to brood, tormented, into a lonely whiskey glass? Severed from love, community, and from the pastimes you craved? I'd argue the lust that haunts you is as necessary to your quality of life as food is to our darling girl."

Will utters a single laugh and turns on his heel as he replies.

"This may come as a shock to your ego, Dr Lecter, but that's not for you to decide."

As Will makes for the door you dart out of your seat after him.

"Wait!” you cry. “Where are you going?"

"To the bathroom,” says Will, “then to make myself another drink.”

"I'll come with you."

"No thanks. Now my encephalitis is on the way out I don't need a chaperone. I can hold it myself.”

He disappears around the corner, a rude breed of rejection.

As you turn back to Hannibal he stands up to meet you, his dominant hand clapping against your face with such velocity that you cannot quite believe what he has done.

You keel backwards, your very teeth seeming shaken in their bed of gums.

“You hit me,” you say, your voice trembling with awe. “But when Will did it you—”

“Will feared striking you in the face would cause you lasting injury,” says Hannibal. “I do not share his concerns. I’ve tolerated your disrespect with more patience than I’m accustomed to permitting without notable consequence. To insert yourself between Will and I with the intent of ending our friendship is unforgivable.”

The apple knife is in his other hand, you notice, though not yet raised to slice through to the red of your throat.

“Don’t hurt me,” you whimper. “Give me another chance.”

Hannibal considers like some poised herald of justice.

“You must rectify your mistake,” he says, finally.

A hysterical, indignant surge of courage comes over you.

“What can I do? He stays for you. This has always been about you. If Will didn’t think so much of you then he would have tattled to Jack, or Alana, or any of them already. He would have turned you in.”

“You’re lucky that he did not.”

“Well, I knew that he wouldn’t,” you insist. “I wanted him to, but I knew it was all totally pointless. And guess what, Daddy— the only reason I said anything about the food was to make him think you’d treat him the same way you treat me. I had no idea it was actually true. How could you? He’s supposed to be your friend. More than that. If he leaves you then it’s your fault, not mine.”

The truth of this crosses Hannibal’s features, and without a word he returns to place the knife back on the table.

In that instant you see that he had never desired to use it, that he’d only been so close to heartbreak that he would have made a regrettable error in the fog of it.

Emboldened, you approach him and put your sweating hand into his.

“You should just tell him you’re sorry,” you urge him. “Tell him how you really feel. I don’t get why you haven’t already. Don’t you think he probably feels the same way?”

You fall silent as Will opens the living room door again.

“Talking about me?” he asks, catching sight of your sombre faces greeting his. “What did I tell you about getting involved?”

This directed at you with a sharpness that you find insulting.

“I was only saying that I don’t want you to go,” you lie. “Not without me.”

Will sits down heavily in an armchair with an air of his old dislike.

“Why doesn’t that surprise me? You’re selfish and self-absorbed. You’re needy enough to lap up any attention we give you, but you just love playing us against each other. Sure, you’re scared of where you’d end up if I walked out on you, but the minute you saw a disagreement brewing between us you just lapped it up. Nothing Dr Lecter could make for you could ever taste that sweet.”

Astonished by the attack, you begin, “Daddy, I—”

Will cuts in.

“Admit it. You’ve been looking for an opportunity to set this up for weeks. And Dr Lecter is far from off the hook, but he’s right. You’ve been sticking the knife in so deep it’s struck the bone.

“It’s not just because you hate us, either. It’s because you know that we’re the only ones that can stop you from starving yourself to death. If Hannibal hadn’t taken care of you this week you’d be right back where you were on that first day.”

Bewildered, you study his clenched jaw, the white hand worked about one of Hannibal’s wine glasses, and wonder if he’s become inexplicably drunk for you to emerge as the fresh target of his resentment.

“None of this is about me,” you say, and Will chuckles shortly.

“Of course it is. The night of the seizure— when I thought about it long enough I realised that Hannibal triggered it knowing that no matter how much you despised me you’d still reach out to help me. You’re soft that way; he saw that in you.

“If he hadn’t done it we would have kept on wanting to kill one another, and I wouldn’t feel anything for you but obligation. Trapped by your existence.”

“And how do you feel towards her now?” asks Hannibal with the caution of knowing he is still the enemy.

“At the moment, frustrated.”

“But in general?”

Will looks at you, and some of the rage alights from him in a visible loosening of his frame.

“I’d kill for her,” he admits. “And I don’t say that lightly. Whenever I step back and examine that urge in myself I find it repulsive. But I know what I’d do to protect her. Even from you.”

Unsure whether to embrace him or to recoil in terror of his aggression you gasp aloud.

“You’ll never need to concern yourself about me in that regard, Will,” says Hannibal. “As close as our daughter may attempt to drive me to that end, I will not go to it.”

Unimpressed, Will samples his wine, the red on his lips like the quickening of blood.

“Maybe not, but you’ll stand right on the edge. Damaging the people you’re close to is a symptom of caring for them, apparently.”

Amused by the jab, Hannibal says, “Is it not yours as well? Perhaps I should anticipate a retaliatory action, then.”

Their bickering is intimate in a way that you doubt Will is quite aware of, yet that irrefutably exists; why else would he remain in the sphere of a man that has thrust such an assault upon his mind?

Feeling out of place amidst such dangerous chemistry you sidestep towards the door.

Will catches you by the arm as you pass him.

“Wait. We should make the effort to spend time together as a family. Shouldn’t we?”

He glances at Hannibal, a subtle attempt to dominate the room.

“We should,” says Hannibal. “Sit down, Little One.”

You hover, still stunned by the slap, by Will’s avowal of passion, and by his decision to stand by a creature of such evil.

Your younger captor gestures to the arm of his chair, and without a word you sit, starting at his touch at your back. He strokes you lightly, affection and possessiveness in every joint of his hand.

Helpless before such love you lean against him, and Hannibal looks upon you both with what you interpret as longing.

“I realised something about the Lover,” says Will. “I’ve gotten a greater understanding of him over the past few days. Guess you can pat yourself on the back for clearing my head.”

“I take no credit,” says Hannibal. “Your revelations are entirely your own. What are they exactly?”

Will savours a mouthful of wine for a long second before he answers.

“The Lover isn’t a local. That’s why he deposits his victims by or in rivers; they lead back home, or remind him of it, anyway. He’s taking them there like newlyweds the way he hopes to return with his muse.

“Our killer has travelled. Likely he’s changed his name. We’ll find similar murders in other states. They will have been committed when he was a young man. Inexperienced. Hadn’t honed his methods yet.”

Hannibal—who is acquainted with the Lover, could solve this case with the mere utterance of syllables—dons an expression of believable interest.

“You’re implying that he had a previous muse.”

“Yes. The murders follow a very specific timeline. The Lover’s latest paramour probably wasn’t even born yet when he first started killing.”

“She died,” you say suddenly. “His first ‘real’ doll. He killed her?”

“Not on purpose,” says Will, and his hand rises to your waist, drawing you closer to him. “Or only as a last resort. The Lover craves total control over his bride. If she didn’t fall into line, or if his fantasy was somehow shattered then she had to die like the others. This time he’s sure it’s true love.”

*

The evening continues in its implacable tension, and when at last you’re allowed to go up to bed you feel relieved to have escaped it.

You stare at a Clive Barker novel as the storm gnaws at the crust of night, your vision adhered to the same handful of words until they become absent of definition.

Hannibal’s slap is a bruise on the brain, seeping in between each thought until you throw your book aside with a groan.

It’s a new thing to fear that you’ve glimpsed in him, how in a crisis he may, like his friend, be quite rash.

The closer they become even in argument the more their behaviours overlap and interchange— yet Hannibal’s strike was unlike Will’s, you noticed, quick, and clean, and practiced. It is how he must slash a throat or break the neck of any victim, and though you’ve felt death in such proximity you are wet between the legs from the sick exhilaration of having given it the slip another day.

Discomforted, you turn on your side and attempt to commit yourself to slumber. Only by the help of the pills at your bedside do you induce that state, a servant to your captor’s care even in so natural a transition as this.

*

In the night you wake to realise that Will has been watching you sleep, standing back-lit in the doorway as thunder runs like gravel over the house.

You lie tangled in a cirque of sheets, your hair static with fear, and from the storm. The wind breaks its fists against the window panes, and you see the shape of Will's reflection there, a malevolent wisp in the glass.

"You're still here?" you ask, softly, and Will starts, having not known that you’d awoken. "Are you... staying the night?"

"No," says Will, after a strange pause. "I can't. I'm teaching tomorrow. Can't skip it."

He looks damp and pasty in the dim light, a grub dug up from the earth. You sit up in bed, oddly moved and rather alarmed by his appearance.

"You're still sick," you say. “Aren’t you?”

Will shakes his head slowly, coils of dark hair like a coronet on his brow.

"No," he says. “I just remembered something. A dream I had during one of my fevers. About you."

The words send such a chill through you that you draw yourself flat against the headboard, away from him.

"What was the dream?" you ask, although you don't want to know.

Glancing downwards in his own avoidance, Will reads some shape in the dark.

“I don't know if I should tell you.”

Against your better judgement, you enquire, "Why not?"

"Feels like it'd be speaking it into being, somehow."

You wrap arms of ice around your kneecaps.

"I thought you didn't believe in that stuff."

Will swallows audibly, clenching a hand on one side of the door.

"I... don't. But this dream is different."

You feel how he craves to come to you, to hold you, and to be held in turn, both of you vulnerable and pathetic. You know how he itches to run away and to hide in his house, that fortress of solitude.

Still he remains in the doorway, the threshold between these two needs.

"Wait," you say, suddenly. "I don't have to know."

But Will wets his lips and sways like a drunk, and then he says, “In the dream you escape from here. You run away. It's mid-autumn; the trees are dripping with so many orange leaves it's like I'm chasing you through a field of fire. My blood is up at the sight of you like you've triggered some instinctual urge to hunt."

Will closes his eyes in recollection, and you see them flicker below the lids as though he is slumbering, still.

"It's raining," he says. "Just like tonight. It's raining, and your dress is wet against you, and you're dirty, and your hair is full of leaves, and I'm angry because even in that dream I know that you belong with me and Hannibal."

"Don't," you mumble, but Will doesn't seem to hear you, returning to the red place of sleep.

"I catch you from behind," he murmurs. "My arms around your waist, pulling you down into the leaves with me. You're screaming, begging me to let me go, but you don't use my name. You call me 'Daddy', and that's a mistake, because it reminds me of exactly how mad I am that you dared to run away from me. The thrill of chasing you, and all that rage—

"I hit you. I kiss you. I stuff your mouth with dirty leaves like some kind of scarecrow, and I tear your stupid little dress off your body, and I thrust inside you as the rain falls down onto us."

Halting, Will mops his face with an erratic hand.

"Then I enter you in a second way, because I have a knife, and when I stab you it is— beautiful.

You moan aloud in horror, and Will stares past you as though he's forgotten that you're in the room.

"I stab you as I move inside you, and in that moment I can't decide which sensation is more pleasurable. There's warmth both ways, the feeling of taking what I want, of having complete power over you, and it's overwhelming. I woke up from that dream sick to my stomach, but I wasn't as horrified as I should have been."

Stiff and frail as an invalid child you wrap yourself into your sheets as though they might protect you from him.

"I was right," you rasp. "Deep down you want to kill me."

"No!"

This, spoken with an urgency that startles you.

"No," Will repeats, in a softer voice. "I don't. But if you ever try to run away I can't say for sure that it wouldn't end like that dream. It was potent, and it felt... real."

Thunder roars like the pain of a goliath beyond your bedroom window, and you reach up to draw the curtains shut.

"I'll never run away," you say, in a pinched voice. "Hannibal's too smart to let me do that."

At this Will looks at you with eyes of such blue darkness that it's like gazing into the endless graves of the sea.

"He might let you try, some day," he says. "Just to see what I’ll do."

[smhalltheurlsaretaken]

Into Darkness is by no means a perfect movie, but Spock's speech about caring is one of the hardest hitting moments in all of Star Trek in my opinion.

There is such a deep longing to the music as Spock brings up the destruction of Vulcan (by the way, the track is called Spock and Uhura and yes it’s a reprise of An Endangered Species from the first movie), and such a raw vulnerability to the characters. Nyota and Jim are at a loss for words as they see Spock’s distance for what it is: deep, deep seated trauma, combined with extraordinary resilience.

There’s something so spot-on about Vulcans in general too. Everyone here already knew that Vulcans do experience emotions, but Spock admitting to it leading with a simple “You misunderstand” still feels like the unearthing of a closely kept secret. You can see the realization in Nyota and Jim’s eyes, as Spock explains that he’s not rejecting emotions because he holds them in contempt but rather because they’re just too vast and too painful – that who he is is a choice he’s holding onto, and not a character flaw he’s in denial about. The intimate confession flips the script on the humans who wanted the Vulcan to feel the full weight of their anger, annoyance and concern, and end up grappling with the full weight of his grief instead.

And the fact that they’re not facing each other! Like it’s something too monumental to discuss face-to-face! How Spock’s soft words are so powerful they convey everything. Combined with the music and the duality of the soft, warm light and blue shadows, it’s like the echoes of Vulcan are right there, like desert sands and ocean-deep sorrow.

And of course there is the absolutely heart-wrenching ode to romance that is the last line: “Nyota, you mistake my choice not to feel as a reflection of my not caring. Well, I assure you, the truth is precisely the opposite.” This is the single most achingly tender thing ever said.

(video transcript:)

[Spock, Nyota Uhura and Jim Kirk are flying in a shuttlecraft. They're all facing their consoles/the viewports and all have their backs to each other, with their seats in a triangle.] Spock: "Your suggestion that I do not care about dying is incorrect. A sentient being's optimal chance at maximizing their utility is a long and prosperous life." [Nyota rolls her eyes] Nyota: "Great." Jim: "Not exactly a love song, Spock." Spock: "You misunderstand. It is true I chose not to feel anything upon realizing that my own life was ending. As admiral Pike was dying, I joined with his consciousness and experienced what he felt at the moment of his passing. Anger. Confusion. Loneliness. Fear. [Nyota's expression shifts. Spock and Uhura/An Endangered Species starts playing] I had experienced those feelings before, multiplied exponentially on the day my planet was destroyed. [Jim is listening intently, with a somewhat pained expression.] Such a feeling is something I choose never to experience again. [Spock speaks over his shoulder in Uhura's direction while she listens, looking touched.] Nyota, you mistake my choice not to feel as a reflection of my not caring. Well, I assure you, the truth is precisely the opposite." [Nyota leans back against her headrest with a soft smile.]

[kalorphic]

can you rec a dark if like +18 ☠️ i want chaos. (u can ignore this btw)

DARK(ER) IFS

Okay, I found this one quite difficult because I don’t know what you would constitute as dark (especially considering that this community on tumblr doesn’t really do dark dark (that I’ve seen)), but I’ve managed to compile the list below. Most have demos and there aren’t as many which haven’t updated in months and months (but there are still a few).

I added IFs that used the words ‘dark’ or ‘horror’ in their descriptions and/or that were explicitly rated 18+. I then looked at content warnings - what they were, how extensive they were, and how intense they were.

If anyone wants their IF removed, please let me know (or added, but please keep the criteria(?) above in mind).

OFNA: Birds of a Feather by @ofna - Demo

Legend of a Savior by @legend-of-a-savior-if - Demo

Witches of Ferngrove by @witchesofferngrove - Demo

The Exile by @exilethegame - Demo

Remember, You Will Die by @vapolis - Demo

Project Hadea by @nyehilismwriting - Demo

The Goodfellows by @thecuriouseye - Demo

Event Horizon by @if-eventhorizon - Demo

Fellow Traveler by @robotvampire - Demo

We All Bleed Red by @lost-kiwi-dev - Demo

Mind Games: Trepidation by @bottlecaprabbitgames - Demo

Swallow the Dark by @swallowthedark - Demo

Sinners and Saints by @sinnersandsaints-linwrites - Demo

The Numbers Game by @thenumbersgameif - Demo

A Trial of Horror by @atrial-ofhorror-if - Demo

Defiled Hearts: The Barbarian by @defiledheartsblog - Demo

Haunt the Bodies by @hauntthebodies - No Demo

Kingdoms and Empires by @kingdoms-and-empires - Demo

Ballad of the Judgment Night by @nikkefort-dev - Demo

The Spirited: Origins by @yuveim - Demo

Fox of Sunholt by @foxofsunholt - No Demo (being rewritten)

My Beginning & My End by @chaosbringerx - No Demo

A Court of Serpents by @acourtofserpents - Demo

Ripper’s Plague: Ground Zero by @ripperplague - Demo (indefinite hiatus)

The Operative: Fires of Revolution by @theoperativeif - Demo

The Scars I Live With by @thescarsilivewith-if - No Demo

The Kiss of Midnight by @if-kissofmidnight - No Demo

An Ode to Dying Stars by @dyingstars-if - No Demo

Tainted Souls: Fables & Myth - The Bonded Awakening by @taintedsoul-if - Demo

Dark Impulses by @timidloner - Demo

The Inseparables by @theinseparables-if - No Demo

The Decoy by @alternatewriter - Demo

Softly, Opulent by @softlyopulent-if - Demo

Cheers to the Elites by @cheerstotheelites-if - Demo

The Weight of Yesterday by @theweightofyesterday-if - No Demo

What Lovely Bones by @whatlovelybones-if - Demo

[ineffablelvrs]

THE BIG BYLER FANFIC RECS POST PART 1

PART 2 HERE

aka every byler fanfic ive ever had opened on my phone but never got around to reading (and i dont think i will because. change of fandoms lmao) (it was supposed to be just 1 part but apparently there's a link limit)

!! btw a lot of writers repeats so im tagging them only the first time !!

long post so everything is gonna be under the cut

movie magic by dragons_like_smores (@howtobecomeadragon)

Think I've Died and Gone to Heaven by 0_space_ghost_0

a real fucking legacy, to leave by andiwriteordie (@andiwriteordie)

the strawberries are dying by eggowlss (@eggo-owl)

strangely, he feels at home by andiwriteordie

lying on the floor (typing your name into the internet) by andiwriteordie

The Artist and the Writer by heyits_L (@buck-yyyy)

A Covert Cat in a Cramped Coffee Shop by if_the_stars_fall (@inky-iridescence)

Rock 'n' Roll by bylerisc4non (@bylerisc4non)

The Sharpie Effect by VibraniumStrap

what a match: i'm half-doomed and you're semi-sweet by perexcri (@perexcri)

your string of lights is still bright to me by heidibyers (emiliano)

I don't quite know what to say (but I'm here in your doorway) by mikeslawyer (@mikeslawyer)

beneath these boughs, my devotion blooms by perexcri

love in the time of dragons by mogiah (@morganee)

this is when the feeling sinks in by mogiah

a hundred thrown out speeches by andiwriteordie

i should be over all the butterflies, but i'm into you by willelfanpage (@willelfanpage)

you're stuck in my brain by delusionaltogether (Whyyyyy) (@parkitaco)

with all my heart by mogiah

The Breath That Passed From You To Me by AabH

The Tempests Created This Tide by AabH

just gotta call on me by wiseatom (@wiseatom)

somethin' about you (that i will always recognize) by andiwriteordie

there's nothing more cruel than to be loved by everybody but you by perexcri

Paper Faces by laozuspo (@henrysglock)

i know the end series by bookinit (@bookinit02)

take your time while you're mine (and smoke slow) by andiwriteordie

takes one to know one by andiwriteordie

sweetheart, you're so cruel by perexcri

The Secret to Being Unlucky by lovetriangled (@lovetriangled)

my life begins and ends with you by RomeoWrites (@itsromeowrites)

anything, anything by inblue

someone who loves me now (better than you) by SomeLovleyPopTarts

Daydream by disaster_energy

i had a dream (i got everything i wanted) by andiwriteordie

But Not Tonight by Matto (@mattuhoh)

Real sweet, but I wish you were sober by queercodedvillain

i'm not going anywhere by vissers

provide me sweet understanding by agustplz (shout_out_lou)

To Hell and Back Again by perexcri

an ode to hope (and other funny things) by pyschologicalrocketgirl (@pyschologicalrocketgirl)

i'll find myself in the moonlight by beansie (@byeler)

where the light glows by beansie

yellow is your favorite color by RomeoWrites

emotional motion sickness by delusionaltogether (Whyyyyy)

i'll be your first, i'll be your last by agustplz (shout_out_lou)

home is where the heart is by smoosnoom (moonsooms) (@smoosnoom)

let our walls cave in by andiwriteordie, kidovna (@kidovna)

the words we held back by mogiah

The Only Truth (that I could see) by DrunkenWhalerbitc4 (@drunkenwailerbitc4)

Landslide by hopelessromanfic (@hopelessromanfic)

landslide by chamb3rs

Mike Wheeler And The 5 Stages Of Dealing With Your Best Friend's Secret Admirer by onstoryladders (@onstoryladders)

summer days a plenty by RomeoWrites

running up that road by smoosnoom (moonsooms)

if i was higher, maybe i could see heaven. by bookinit

icarus falls by bookinit

Wrathful Wishing Star and Poisoned Apple Tree by DaineYui

now that we are both doomed by boryaundernight (orphan_account)

they don't know what i know (been thinking about you) by miketozier (smallcuts)

what it means to be gentle by Zara_Zara (@bylermyheart)

how light carries on endlessly series by andiwriteordie

undertow by beansie

cause i’m utterly useless (totally stupid now) by yemeoto

Jealousy (turning saints into the sea) by wasabi8000

Geography Notes and Doodles by midnighteverlark

Bring Your Roommate(?) to Work Day by sarah_tonin_on_the_rocks

stare at pictures of you 'til i'm blind by agustplz (shout_out_lou)

Sounds pretty gay by SkuldTheNorn

want for anything (and everything) by losingcontrolnow

no takesies-backsies by AttaboyLuther (@titforatat)

RESPONSIBILITY by Wheelerboi

poor old jim's white as a ghost (he's found the answer that we lost) by AttaboyLuther

I'll Be Waiting, Time After Time by Kakerutori

tell me, is it really love? by agustplz (shout_out_lou)

Teenage Blues by ThornyWords (@thornywords)

Secret Moments by ur_ur_ur_mom

touch like velvet by ciders

a dream always the same by sevensided (stonedlennon) (@sevensided)

harness your hope by johnnyfucksup

where is my mind? by ciders

yesterday, we were just children by andiwriteordie

selfless; self destruct by didthattwinkjustcommittreason

hanging on the telephone by elmaxed (orphan_account) (@elmaxed)

i will never rust (wanna be yours) by raedafan

Unbreakable Connection by Tea_For_One_Please

but i like you by felinecharismatic

Sleepaway by roady

i keep my distance (but you still catch my eye) by andiwriteordie

don’t you know (that i love you) by bookinit

if you kissed me now by astrobi (@astrobei)

i'm caught up in you by wiseatom

need-to-snow basis by smoosnoom (moonsooms)

[dreammeiser]

Is it okay to ask what where the inspiration for the characters of Dream along?

Of course! I'm always dying to talk about their creation and inspiration but worry about getting too wordy/annoying about it, so I hardly talk about it unless asked (please ask me about my brainrot heeheehee). I can only fit so much on an Instagram Story or a Tweet, so I'm glad you asked here. I guess this will be the master reference for them. Sorry in advance that this is wordy!!

I made these characters spanning the past 14-15 years, with their story only being worked on about 10+ years ago, give or take. I will mention that they were made with Earl as a starting point while I was working at the cool puppet place; the show I was interning on wasn't scratching the creative itch I had, so it was recommended to me to make the project that I wish I was working on. :oD

The Muppets, Sesame Street, Osamu Tezuka's works, and Moomin were some animated/puppet media off the top of my head that always stuck with me my whole life and have influenced my retro inspired work the most. They all had such sweetness and charm to them, and all felt like a found family :o) My favorite trope. Puppets were also just deeply meaningful to me because they were physical forms of creativity and childlike wonder you could hold and play with! I thought whenever you made one, you put a little bit of your heart and soul into them.

I wanted the Dreamalong Gang to have the charm of Jim Henson's and Tove Jansson's characters, but I wanted them to have the humor and intrigue of Gravity Falls, Over the Garden Wall, Don't Hug Me I'm Scared, and Welcome to Night Vale. DHMIS and Night Vale actually inspired the story the most because they were both a really nice mix of absurdist humor and horror! Sleep Paralysis Demons were a point of intrigue for me that I thought were perfect for a Dreamscape setting, so I started working on including those.

The Dreamalong Gang has little bits and pieces of friends that I had loved, but I leaned into the group dynamics more for them. They're composed of friends I wished I had growing up!

Visually, I'd think of a fun/dream adjacent theme for the characters to tie them all together thematically. I know people tend to bark at me when they see what I'm inspired by but, I don't like to copy directly from my inspiration sources. They're just there to inspire you, ya know?

Archie's theme was Wishing Stars and Bedtime Stories; Hunson Abadeer from Adventure Time used to be on here, but I moved away from anything that might've made Archie spooky. I forgot to include Peter Pan and his Shadow on here, but they inspired him as well!

When it came to palettes, sometimes I'd have something in mind for them already like with Roy G Biv, Archie, and Mae-- Roy has his kidcore rainbow/SMPTE bars, Archie had some of my favorite blues and creams with a pastel minimal rainbow, Mae's were based off the colors of a golden hour rainstorm I had seen on my travels. Other times I had to play around with what color I hadn't used much of yet. I wonder if you can tell which colors are my least favorite and which ones I like a lot hahaha :'o)

I would also think about stories and songs that went with the characters thematically and use those to shape their character a little further, like looking to The Impossible Dream from the 1972 Man of la Mancha and Moon River for Archie, as well as old Ole Lukoje fairytales. He used to draw inspiration from Hijo de la Luna, but I wanted his story to be more upbeat on surface level with hidden tones of sadness instead of dramatic.

I don't want this to get tooooo long, so I'm going to put a pin in it there. If people want to know more in depth inspiration sources for specific characters feel free to ask! I like being open about my inspiration sources and my process since so many other artists gatekeep stuff. I hope this was a nice read!! :o)

[yuuugay]

yaurrrrrrrr 🥺🥺

That fanart of Krios has made me fall in love with xem even more, and now i've got a feral need to just cover xer face in kisses mwah mwah 😘

i’m not sure what fanart this is in relation too anymore, but yes! they’re all so beautiful, and i’m forever grateful to @stephschoices and @yuuugay and @ffiseri for their gorgeous works of art <33

[yuuugay]

My simple rendition of mop haired krios! Xe is kinda clean shaven because i have no idea how to facial hair without making it look weird. So for now xe is clean shaven

I love xyr lots and cant wait to play the if 🥺 @dyingstars-if

[stephschoices]

a quick krios 💞 @dyingstars-if

[retroosquared]

the Dioscuri

[1] Castor and Pollux (2022) Wikipedia. Wikimedia Foundation. [2] Svarlien, D.A. (1990) Pindar, Nemean 10, Pindar, Nemean, Nemean 10 For Theaeus of Argos Wrestling 444 B. C.

[ID: Two page comic of Lemon and Tangerine from Bullet Train, with text from the Wikipedia page on the brothers Castor and Pollux and Nemean Odes 10 throughout the two pages. The first page reads, “Castor and Pollux (or Polydeukes) are twin half-brothers” over two frames of Lemon and Tangerine fighting over whether they killed 16 or 17 people, then “Castor and Pollux are sometimes both mortal, sometimes both divine.” There is a drawing of Lemon saying, “I never bleed.” in stylized text, then the Wikipedia entry continues: “One consistent point is that if only one of them is immortal, it is Pollux.”

The second page is in two halves, the first half being Tangerine taking off his pendant to give to Lemon. Some parts of the drawing are in colour, some are in greyscale. Over it, the Wikipedia entry reads: “Returning to the dying Castor, Pollux was given the choice by Zeus of spending all his time on Mount Olympus or giving half his immortality to his mortal brother.” The excerpt from the Nemean 10 follows: “‘But nevertheless I grant you your choice in this. If you wish to escape death and hated old age, and to dwell in Olympus yourself with me and Athena and Ares of the dark spear, you can have this lot. But if you strive to save your brother, and intend to share everything equally with him, then you may breathe for half the time below the earth, and for half the time in the golden homes of heaven.’ When Zeus had spoken thus, Polydeuces did not have a second thought.” The second half of the page is a drawing of the scene where Lemon sits next to Tangerine’s dead body. Both are covered in blood and the sunrise is shining on them through the train’s window. The last bit of the Wikipedia entry reads: “The brothers became the two brightest stars in the constellation Gemini (”the twins”): Castor (Alpha Geminorum) and Pollux (Beta Geminorum).” End ID.]

[voidcat-senket]

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY JEDI SURVIVOR!

Please enjoy a collection of Cal Kestis/Bode Akuna fanworks to celebrate! Find the AO3 collection here!

tear down the planet for the hype

FIC AND ART | 4.8k | Teen and Up

“only my friends can call me by it. well, and my masters.” kestis shrugged before stepping back to sit on a stool that seemed randomly in the middle of the room. “but, we are engaged, it would be pretty weird if you were calling me by kestis.” “if it helps, my name is bode,” the jedi shadow said as he stepped forward, holding his hand out for kestis to take if he so inclined. “calling me knight akuna would be too formal for a marriage, whether or not it’s political, and—well who knows, maybe we can become friends?” [jedi shadow bode is given a mission that will end the war—marry sith prince darth kestis. that is, if he survives the first meeting.]

Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Order 66 Didn't Happen, Arranged Marriage, Jedi Shadow Bode Akuna, Sith Cal Kestis, First Meetings, Marriage Contracts, Negotiations, Bode Akuna is a Mess, Fluff and Humor, Pre-Relationship, Stewjoni Cal Kestis

FIND THE FULL ART PIECE HERE

Paper and Stone

ART AND FIC | 7.4k | Teen and Up | includes Bode/Tayala

Cal goes to Nova Garon to confront Bode, but he finds the man's quarters full of echoes that show him a side of Bode Cal never thought he'd see.

Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Psychometry | Force Echo (Star Wars), Cal goes to Nova Garon but finds more than he expects, echoes upon echoes upon echoes, SpyScrapper, if you wanted more of Bode and Tayala's relationship here you go

FIND THE FULL ART PIECE HERE (and a secret bonus here~)

love is death, love is dying; love is steel, a silver lining

FIC | .5k | Teen and Up

Cal is wary of the blaster Bode has given him. Bode teaches him some basic gun safety.

Tags: Guns, Canon Compliant, Sort Of, Maybe - Freeform, You Decide, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Missing Scene, Implied Relationships, Angst

Second Date! An Ode to Visual Novels

VIDEO | 1hr | Teen and Up

Tags: visual novel, time travel fix-it, time loop, simulated dating sim, Bode POV

fire still burns in a vacuum

FIC | 1.6k | Teen and Up

It's been a year and Cal returns to the observatory for the first time. He hadn't expected someone else to do the same.

Tags: Grief/Mourning, Character Study, Relationship Study, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Author Welcomes All Interpretations, This Is a Study On Cal's Grief With a Twist at the End, Post-Canon, Canon-Typical Dark Themes

FIND THE FULL ART PIECE HERE

Roots in Place of my Heart

8.8k | Mature | includes Bode/Tayala

When Bode saw the date, he had to swallow down a mix of blood and bile. There’s something growing in Bode’s chest, filling out the space that was left vacated when Tayala died and took his heart with her. They say the only cure to grief is life. Or death.

Tags: Hanahaki Disease with my own twist on it, Angst with a Happy Ending, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Blood, Body Horror, Love Confessions, Pretending you’re fine even though you’re very much not, Grief/Mourning

Lights Glow in your Wake

FIC | 5.4k | Teen and Up

Cal gives Bode a gift for their anniversary. The trouble is- their anniversary isn't for another three weeks, Bode is sure of it.

Tags: Post-Canon Fix-It, Post-Canon, Domestic Fluff, Anniversary, Established Relationship, Planet Tanalorr, POV Bode Akuna, POV Third Person Limited, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Jedi Culture & Customs

Blue Skies Over Bad Lands

FIC | 18.6k | Mature

Bode looks up and Cal’s gaze snags his immediately, drawing him in. The rebel Jedi is a remarkable combination of wariness and vulnerability, like no matter how hard Cal tries to steel himself against the pain, his grief and longing and love are too strong, too pure to be contained. They shine through the cracks like a ray of blazing light. (Or: Bode and Cal fall in love. It complicates things.)

Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fix-It, Mild Sexual Content, Dubious Consent Due To Identity Issues, Pining, Confessions, Secret Identity Fail, Canon Rewriteish, Cal Kestis is a Force of Nature and Bode couldn't get off this ride even if he wanted to, They're In Love Your Honor

I Don't Wanna Say No to This

FIC | 4.1k | Teen and Up

Bode is not actually looking for Cal Kestis when he trips over him on his way out of the bar. He’s looking for work, actually— he needs to fix up the ancient freighter he’d wound up buying for Kata and himself, that first awful week after finding Tanalorr and feeling it clutching at him in the Force, the planet a near-sentient thing, clawing, greedy… He shakes off the sensation, hopes it’s only a memory, and looks down at Kestis. He’s unconscious, his face a single bruise, and there are four beings surrounding them. None of them look like anyone he’d leave alone in an alley with anyone, even someone who most likely wants him very dead.

Tags: Bittersweet, Angst, Miscommunication, Reunions, Forgiveness, Rescue, Implied/Referenced Slavery, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Bode was not ready to face his past, Cal's not emotionally capable of facing his past, Together they make like one entire functioning person, Past Relationship(s), Established Relationship

FIND THE FULL ART PIECE HERE

a soft place to land

FIC | 3.8k | Mature

A hot day on Koboh leads to a shared shower and a realization - sometimes it's nice to be taken care of.

Tags: Smitten Bode Akuna, Bode Akuna Lives, Hair Washing, Making Out, i still don't know how to tag these things, Fluff and Mush, Near-Human Cal Kestis, Again, sharp teeth sharp teeth sharp teeth, Body Worship, Smitten Cal Kestis, Soft Cal Kestis, POV Bode Akuna, soft intimacy, Light Angst, showering together, Not Canon Compliant, Post-game, We call this "fluid dynamics" with the way Cal and Bode keep switching

[mangora]

I’m so tired here are some assorted Disventure Camp headcanons:

•Jake is really into poetry. Some of his poems are bangers, some of them are absolute dogshit. He posts some of them online, mostly the bad ones because he’s not self-aware of how bad they are. He will spend hours on end writing in his notes app. Guy is a big fan of sonnets and free verse but his strong suits are odes and villanelles

•Rosa María, James, Yul, Lake, Riya, Fiore, and Alec are all multilingual. Rosa speaks English and Spanish, James speaks Portuguese and English, Yul speaks Korean and English, Lake speaks German and English as well as some French, Riya speaks Hindi and English, Fiore speaks English and some Italian, and Alec speaks English as well as a variety of other languages (he did a minor in linguistics for his university degree so he knows the basics of multiple major languages).

•Hunter’s a competitive chess player. Ally’s the only person who’s ever beat him fair and square, but even then, that rarely happens

•Lake is great at baking. She’s incredibly exact when it comes to measurements, timing, and technique. Rosa, meanwhile, is a great cook and she doesn’t measure anything

•Aiden can play bass guitar. He started learning as a teenager because he wanted to join an emo band one day. Chase your dreams boy

•Yul used to have braces and he’s really embarrassed about it

•Gabby’s a forager, she loves to forage for wild fruit and mushrooms and greens

•Ellie’s kinda a ghoul in the kitchen. Like she can make good food and drinks but most of the time she’s so tired that she makes evil energy drink-instant coffee potions or like that pistachio & condensed milk concoction from Arthur

•In a better universe I think Ellie and Jake are frenemies instead of fully hating each other and they play Minecraft together and Ellie is constantly stealing Jake’s shit and trying to defeat the Ender Dragon meanwhile he screams every time he sees a Creeper and begs her to turn Keep Inventory on because he keeps dying

•Miriam gets a cat after the show. She’s an older white cat named Snowball and she has the same personality as her. They are best friends and Miriam is so annoyed by her. She made them matching sweaters. Snowball is only fully nice to Jake

•Fiore listens to Thrash Metal. It’s partially just to throw people off when they find out, she thinks it’s funny

•Fiore also enjoys those YouTube prank videos, she knows they’re fake they’re just so stupid that she finds them hilarious. Kristal gives her an iPad for a day one time for entertainment and it pisses the rest of the Magenta team off so bad because she keeps playing these prank videos and watching epic fail compilations at full volume

•Grett loves crocheting. She slowly turns into one of those people who crochets during lectures and while watching movies and shit

•James is really good at Tetris

•Ally is obsessed with Sci-Fi. She, Tess, and Hunter watch Star Trek, Doctor Who, and Star Wars together because they all love the worldbuilding so much. Tess writes fanfiction about almost everything they watch. Hunter has terrible media literacy and misses the themes every time but he has fun watching

•After All Stars, Riya gets really into tattoos. She gets matching ones with Connor

•People antagonize Tom with the cop slide video and every time he clenches his fist and goes, “Stop laughing at him.”

•Kai has a bunch of pet bugs. Maggy’s secretly afraid of them still but she’s getting there. She likes rollie pollies

•Karol used to do roller derby and Lill used to ice skate. Ggirlf,riends,,, I miss them chat. Where is my old woman yuri

•Aiden eats plain yogurt nothing on it and it’s the one thing James doesn’t like about him. Like it’s so upsetting to him. Why does he eat plain yogurt

•Ashley likes hyperpop, don’t tell anyone

•Tom likes crockpot food. He is not invited to potlucks for this reason. He will always bring the crockpot

•Alec doesn’t like splatter films but he really enjoys psychological horror, especially mockumentaries and mondo films

•Lake read creepypasta a lot as a kid and she wouldn’t go into the kitchen after dark because she was afraid of Jeff the Killer appearing at her fridge