#as for being hannibal lector…… i don’t think i am hannibal lector

[sweaters-and-vertigo]

i’m very sad that no one filmed my post sinus surgery loopiness yesterday….. rip loopy rachel

[specialagentlokitty]

Hannibal lector x teen!reader - ensure you’re safe

Hi 👋🏻 Saw you wanted to try to write for Hannibal characters and for me the easiest way to start writing for Hannibal was to write like a therapy session with Hannibal. So thought maybe you could write teen!reader or just regular reader at a therapy session with Hannibal, of course there’s no worries if you don’t write it, just thought it might help you out <3 I will probably request something with Will later as he’s my fave character but can’t come up with anything right now - @panic-in-the-multiverse 💜

TW: mentions of abusive parents

Sitting outside in the waiting room to your new therapists office, you sighed heavily, pulling your headphones back over your head.

You weren’t sure what you wanted to do, a large part of you wanted to just leave, but you had to be there, the officer sitting next to you was there to make sure of that.

But just because you had to be there didn’t mean you had to say anything, or actually take part, you simply just had to attend the session.

You watched as a bit of paper was held out in front of your face, and you sighed, turning your gaze to the man sitting next to you, pulling your headphones back down.

“What?” You snapped.

“Don’t be rude, keep your headphones down, and please try take part.”

“I don’t see why I have to, I didn’t do shit wrong.”

“Well, apparently everybody else sees differently kiddo, so please try.”

You stuck your middle finger up at him, pulling your headphones back over your head to carry on blocking out of the world.

You weren’t paying all that much attention, but you did notice when the officer next to you stood up and you turned your head to look at him in uninterest as he spoke to the man who came out of the office.

Then he turned back to you and pushed your headphones down.

“You’re up kid, I’ll wait out here to take you home but then you’re on your own to make sure you come to these sessions, got it? Twice a week.”

“Get lost Daniels.”

“Alright, but remember no wondering off because we’ll know.”

You just scowled and he grinned a little at you, holding up your bag for you to take as you stood up.

“This is Doctor Hannibal Lector, he’s going to be your new therapist, be polite, respectful, and remember to keep your temper.” Daniels warned.

You said nothing as he left, and you turned to the therapist.

“Hello (Y/N), would you like to come in?”

You set your bag down and sat down back in the chair you were waiting in.

Hannibal smiled slightly, and closing his office door, walking over to sit next to you, sitting forward slightly, clasping his hands together.

He took a moment to study you, how uninterested you were, the fact you wouldn’t even look at him, you were dressed in ripped jeans, well worn trainers, a hoodie.

But it was your face that he was drawn to, the stitches on your eyebrow, a little bit of dried blood just at the side, clearly you had ripped one or two earlier that day. What looked to be a broken nose, split lip, and from the brief glance of your knuckles he had gotten they were bruised and blooded.

He made a few mental notes before he finally spoke first, seeing you weren’t going to initiate a conversation with him.

“Would you like to start by telling me a little bit about yourself?” He asked.

“No.”

“Well, how about we start with why you’re here. Why have you been referred to me (Y/N)?”

“You have my file. You know why.” You grumbled.

“Yes, I am aware this is court mandated therapy. I would like to know why you think you were sentenced to therapy, what are your thoughts about this?”

You didn’t say anything, you just slumped down in the chair, pulling your hood up so he wasn’t able to look at you.

“You have no interest in being here.” He noted.

“Nope.”

“I see, yet you’re staying for what reason? What happens if you walk out of those doors before our session has ended?”

You didn’t say anything, and he just sat there silently for the rest of the session with you.

Every session went the same, you would sit outside, refuse to come in or answer his questions, then the pair of you would sit outside the office while he read or made notes and you listened to your music.

It went that way for nearly two months, and Hannibal followed the same routine this time around, opening his office door and you looked up at him.

He paused, taking in your bloodied hoodie and nose.

“(Y/N), what happened?” He asked.

You got up, and he stepped aside, holding the door for you as you walked in for the first time since you began to see him.

Hannibal carefully closed the door, watched as you walked around until you stopped by the ladders and you sat down on them.

“There are more comfortable places to sit if you would prefer.”

“I’m fine.”

He hummed a little bit, sitting in a chair as he looked over at you.

You were one to keep your distance, so he wanted to respect that boundary and stayed where he was on the other side of the room.

“Are you? In the two months that we have known one another you have never stepped foot inside my office until now. Today is the only day you have come in looking as if you were in a fight just before arriving.”

You didn’t say anything.

“I have read your file numerous times, you’re known for your rather unpleasant temper, you have been arrest on multiple occasions for assault, your most previous charge is listed as aggregated assault.”

“So what?” You snapped slightly.

“There is no need to get angry, I am not here to judge you. I am simply here to assist you, find out why you are so angry all the time and what led to your anger.”

You pulled the sleeve of your hoodie down, pressing it to your nose, wiping some of the blood on it.

Hannibal got up, walking over he took the handkerchief from his pocket and held it out to you, making sure he kept his distance.

“I don’t need your help…” you grumbled.

“Well, blood can be rather hard to wash out of clothing, you may ruin your jacket if you keep that up.”

“It’s a hoodie.”

Hannibal chuckled slightly.

“Very well, you will ruin your hoodie.”

“Like I said, don’t need your help.”

Hannibal sighed, laying the handkerchief down on the floor just a few steps away from your and he clasped his hands behind his back.

“You are a deeply mistrusting person, I understand that. But perhaps if you are willing to give someone a chance you will see that some people can be trusted.”

You glanced up at him, then quickly averted your gaze, going back to looking at the floor instead, but he knew you were watching him.

You had your head lowered, but just barely high enough to look at his shoes.

“Who hurt you?” He pressed carefully.

“What makes you think I didn’t start it?”

“The lack of bruises or scrapes on your hands, your clothes are rather dirty, defensive wounds I would say. Am I correct?”

You shrugged a little bit.

“Maybe I just like it, getting into fights and all.”

“I have a reason that perhaps you don’t enjoy it.”

You looked up at Hannibal, getting up and you stuffed your hands into the pockets of your jeans.

“Maybe I do. Maybe it fun, beating the crap out of someone until their blood is all over their face, watching as they beg me to stop, to leave them alone. Maybe I like the fear in the eyes.” You taunted.

“Is that so?”

Hannibal watched as you studied him, getting a read on him, trying size him up to see if you could take him on in a fight or not.

“Do you want to hurt me (Y/N)?”

You didn’t say anything.

“Who do you really want to hurt? When you get into all these fights you claim to enjoy, who do you think off when you’re knocking them to the ground and beating them within an inch of their lives?”

“No one.”

“Anybody with that much rage thinks of somebody, targets somebody.”

You just scoffed, making your way past him to head to the door.

You left without another wait, having reached the exact time limit of the session and Hannibal walked over to his desk, opening his book.

He wrote down what you had told him, and sat reflecting on it.

Clearly you were an angry person, you were a teenager with a lot of anger and hatred, but not at the world.

It was directed at one single person, because if your anger was random he had no doubt in his mind you would’ve already tried to attack him, but you didn’t.

You simply just refused to acknowledge whatever he said, you didn’t attempt to hurt him.

Intimidate? Yes. But not hurt.

It was a few days when your next session came around, and you walked into the office once more, taking a seat in your usual spot, this time a little more slowly.

Hannibal frowned, but carried on his session.

And he began to pick up on every time you came into the sessions either hurt, or fresh out of a fight.

And the timeframe between these seemed to get smaller and smaller, up until the point today.

Hannibal opened his door and you looked worse than ever as you pushed past him, dripping some blood on to the floor, limping into the middle of the room.

You took a few shoe breaths and he closed the door, making his way over to you.

“(Y/N), can you hear me?”

You slowly turned to him, nodding your head, stumbling a couple of steps.

“Tell me what happened? Who did this to you?”

You shook your head, slowly sitting down on the floor so you wouldn’t have to get blood on any of his furniture.

“Stay here, I will call the police, and for an ambulance.”

“No!”

Hannibal turned at your outburst, and you looked at him, rage with slight fear mixed in your eyes.

“Don’t you dare, don’t… don’t call anyone…” you warned.

“Alright.”

Hannibal set his phone back down and he walked over, kneeling down in front of you, resting an arm on his leg.

“Tell me what happened.”

You took a small breath, leaning back on one of your hands.

“I fucked up… real bad doctor Lector… like.. like real bad…”

“I need you to tell me what happened.” He pressed carefully.

You sighed a little bit.

“He got drunk again, got pissed, I talked back. He swung for me so I fought back, hit him with a chair. She got pissed at me, pushed me down a few stairs.”

“Who is the ‘he’ you keep referring to?”

“My dad.”

Hannibal nodded his head.

“I assume the ‘she’ would then be your mother?”

“Bingo, right on the money doc. I can see why you’re a therapist.”

Hannibal noticed how you deflected the serious topic with unserious remarks or a slightly snappy tone towards him.

“I see, you are aware that I have to call the police, and I strongly recommend you allow me to take you to the hospital. A fall down the stairs is not something to take so lightly.”

“You call police and I’m gone.”

“Why?”

You stayed quiet, shifting a little with pain and he sighed.

“You have strong issues with authority, but unfortunately I have to call them, I have a duty of care to ensure your well-being. Which means if I suspect that someone or yourself will cause you harm I have to report it. I can request to be with you every step of the way if that makes you comfortable.”

You pushed yourself up with a grunt of pain, stumbling a few steps backwards and Hannibal quickly stood up, placing his hand on your back to keep you stable.

You moved away quickly, and made your way to the door.

“At least allow me to take you to the hospital.” Hannibal said.

He turned around to get his keys from his desk and when he turned around you were gone.

He sighed, picking up his phone in order to call for your parole officer.

He had had the number his his phone since the first session, but he had never had to call the officer about you.

Not until now.

He quickly relayed on the fact that you had come into his officer severely injured.

You hadn’t made it far when Daniels picked you up, despite the fact you tried running you couldn’t exactly outrun a police officer in your injured state and you were taken to the hospital.

The ran some tests, stitched up your cuts, and placed you in a room while you awaited the results of your tests.

“So, want to tell me what happened?” Daniels asked.

“Go fuck yourself.” You growled.

“Hey, I want to help kid. But I can’t if I don’t know what happened to you.”

“You know what happened you prick, you all know what happened but you won’t do fuck all about it!”

“Calm down right now.”

“Or what?!”

You ripped the IV out of your arm, and you stood up, nearly falling to the side but you didn’t falter.

Daniels stood up as well.

“You can’t do shit.”

“Look, doctor lector is on his way, and they’re taking your parents in for questioning right now but you need to stay here.”

“Like fuck do I have to stay here. You can’t hold me for shit.”

You barged past him, throwing down the tray as he tried to follow you.

It would stall him for a few minutes while nurses and doctors quickly tried to gathering everything up so nobody would get hurt.

You left the hospital, making your way to your usual hideout spot when you didn’t want to go home.

It wasn’t the best, an old and abandoned construction site, but it was full of more than enough hiding places, and you went to your favourite one.

Sitting in the concrete pipe, you rested your back on a blanket you had in there, closing your eyes as you breathed through the discomfort.

Your phone was ringing endlessly, and you turned it off, getting bored of hearing the sound.

Though the silence was helpful when it came to hearing the creaking of the large metal gate being opened and closed.

“(Y/N), I know you’re here, come out so we can talk!” Hannibal called.

You stayed quiet.

You knew he would eventually and it only took a few minutes for him to appear at the entrance to your hiding spot.

He offered you a gentle smile.

“You need to go back to the hospital.”

“No.”

“Your parents are currently in custody, you’re safe. Nobody here is going to hurt you, nobody there will hurt you either.”

You scoffed.

“You really believe that? Give it a day or two, they’ll be back out.”

“Yet you always go back, why?”

“Because I have to, court order. Every. Single. Time.”

Hannibal sighed, and he offered you a reassuring smile.

“Come with me, I assure you that no more harm will come to you.”

You didn’t believe him, you simply just left the other end of the pipe you were sat in and Hannibal got up to follow you.

“You have internal bleeding, if you do not go back to the hospital you’ll die within hours.”

“Great, makes life easier for everybody. Gives me a way out.”

“Do you wish to die?”

You paused, giving the man a chance to walk over to you and stand in front of you.

“Do you wish to die (Y/N)?”

“No.”

“So, allow me to take you back to the hospital then. We will let the surgeons fix whatever inside you is bleeding, then when you wake up I will be right there waiting.”

“Yeah, and they’ll be there too.”

“You have my word, you parents will not be allowed in the room.”

You scoffed.

“Yeah, I’ll take my chances bleeding internally.”

“What if I can prove to you that they won’t be allowed in the same room as you?”

This seemed to gain your interested, and he gestured to the front of the construction sight.

“Do you see that man over there?”

You nodded.

“His name is Jack Crawford, he works for the FBI. He has read over your case file, he along with another agent will be outside your room the entire time you are there in recovery while we sort a safer place for you.”

Hannibal held his hand out to you.

“Do you trust me, even just a little bit?”

You looked at him, and you slowly nodded your head.

Hannibal smiled, walking over and he reached out, wrapping his arm around you, letting you hold his other arm to steady yourself while you both walked.

“They will never hurt you again (Y/N).”

Hannibal helped you into his car and got into the drivers seat, adjusting the mirror, wiping the little bit of blood that was on it so you wouldn’t see it

[chryza]

Presidential debate SICK ASS REACTIONS.

“The microphones will only be turned on during their turn to speak” thank the lord they finally learned

“VP Harris you and President Trump (sic.) were elected four years ago” I hope to god that it was a slip and not an omen.

Harris coming right out and attacking project 2025 is pretty pog anyway I hope she kills him. I’m still skeptical about her in a lot of ways and I’m not a fan of the continuing imperialist military industrial complex ie genocide. but fuck me she’s not a raving lunatic or a decrepit dude with dementia so like. Fuck man I’ll take it.

he keeps saying “as she knows” to try and ruin her credibility which might be effective if he didn’t immediately then verbally veer off the road and crash into a tree

WHY DID THEY TURN HIS MICROPHONE ON. THEY SHOULD HAVE JUST LET HIM FUCKING TALK TO AN EMPTY STUDIO IT WOULD HAVE BEEN SO FUNNY.

I hope Kamala kills him. I’m obsessed with the way she keeps laughing at him. KILL HIM.

“She’s a marxist” this is the only time in my life I wish trump was right I fucking wish Kamala Harris was that cool.

[on abortion] “When the baby is born they will decide what to do with the baby and they will EXECUTE the baby” i don’t even have a quip to add the quote speaks for itself

Live Kamala Reaction your opponent just said Tim Walz wants to “Execute Babies”

The MODERATOR being like “there is no state where it’s legal to kill a baby after it’s born” is KILLING ME

Harris does sound legitimately incensed about abortion rights which is a massive W for her, I fully believe she would crack down on restrictions to women’s healthcare

Harris “I invite you to attend one of trump’s rallies and what you’ll hear is him talking about fictional characters like Hannibal Lector, how windmills cause cancer, and you’ll see people leaving early out of exhaustion and boredom” YES. BLOOD. BLOOD.

SHE KNEW EXACTLY WHAT SHE WAS DOING HE IS NOW SOOOO MAD SHE IMPLIED PEOPLE WERE BORED OF HIM AAAAAAHAHAHA I AM MAKING TRIXIE MATTEL SEAGULL NOISES RN

Shown: watching Trump take the bait hook line and sinker

My mom sent me memes so I knew about this beforehand but

“THEYRE EATING THE PETS OF THE PEOPLE OF OUR COUNTRY”

*further trixie bird noises*

[Harris] “This is why I have the endorsement of former Vice President Dick Cheney” that’s NOT A GOOD THINGGGGG I don’t know if it’s like trying to be bipartisan but girl this is NOT the way

I need them to stop turning on Trumps microphone. Just leave it off

I TOOK A BULLET TO THE HEAD BECAUSE OF THEM

KAMALA I SUPPORT FRACKING HARRIS EVERYONE

WHAT ARE WE EVEN TALKING ABOUT ANYMOREEEE THIS IS SUCH A SHITSHOW

“Strength as a leader is not about beating people down it’s about lifting people up” Bold words from a woman who is actively delighting in mocking her opponent, to be clear I think it is an objectively good thing, I simply think this is a hilarious thing to say ten minutes post Live Kamala Reaction

“NOW SHE WANTS TO DO TRANSGENDER OPERATIONS ON ILLEGAL ALIENS IN PRISON”

Most of what trump says is just bloviating nonsense but I am noticing that Kamala Harris is very good at making her words sound nice while not actually saying much of substance. This is not a specific indictment against her because it’s a very Politician thing, but she isn’t actually saying much here.

[moderator] So do you acknowledge now that you lost the 2020 election

[trump] No it was obviously sarcasm

[moderator] I did watch all of the videos where you said that and I didn’t detect the sarcasm.

Trump, on Biden: I’ll let you in on a little secret, [Biden] hates her *pointing to Harris*

Okay so Harris is a proponent of a two-state solution for Israel and Palestine and is opposed to civilian mass-murder. I don’t even know how to begin to touch that with a ten foot pole and the whole situation feels so confusing to me in general. Overall she seems Anti-Civilians-Being-Slaughtered in the name of self-defense but then in the same breath assures that Israel needs support to defend itself from Iran so. Wow sounds like a whole mess of colonization practices that have deliberately destabilized a region that can’t easily be nuanced in a single answer

[Trump] “If she becomes President Israel won’t exist within two years” God I wish Harris was half as cool as he makes her out to be.

“I WOULD GET [PUTIN AND ZELENSKY] ON THE PHONE AND GET THE WHOLE THING SETTLED.”

Kamala Harris PUTIN WOULD EAT TRUMP FOR LUNCH put that on a check and take it to the bank I love national television

I love Harris essentially dishing the hot goss on Trump negotiating with the Taliban. Is this the platform to do it? No. But this is practically kayfabe at this point anyway. Do I even care

What a shitshow. Harris has zero high horse here, she refused to answer basic questions about position in an attempt to remain bipartisan, Trump endlessly blathered about nonsense. Kamala Harris won the debate, but to be frank, trump could lose to a mildly literate dog.

[hekateinhell]

Beloved, your "Armand is Daddy to Louis" anon is here and she is bitter. Why does Lestat get the credit for Louis's so-called gay awakening? He mocks Louis for being closeted. Meanwhile Armand coaches Louis on how to embrace his vampirism and sexuality, how to break the barriers of conventionality. Armand is Louis's James Spader, Hannibal Lector, and Christian Grey, not some blonde bratty bottom.

Anon, hello dear!

You return, and here I am left with more questions than answers. (And a pain in my side from the way I burst out laughing when I read the words “blonde bratty bottom”). Getting this out of the way — Lestat naturally gets credit for everything because he writes the stories; he takes up the entire stage and sidelines everyone else. They’re used to it.

Now, let’s dive in!

Armand, with almost three centuries worth of experience over Lestat and a much more methodical and tolerant approach (he is rather permissive and indulgent in an infantilizing sort of way with his partners, if you think about it), would’ve been an infinitely better teacher. Louis learned a lot from Armand, good and bad.

What Armand represented that Lestat didn’t was knowledge (about vampirism, about the world) and his capacity for endurance. Not that Louis doesn’t appreciate beauty (all vampires do), but he doesn’t wax poetic about looks to the extent of Lestat and Marius. He’s a philosopher at heart, and therein lies his torment. Armand know this, and he is nothing if not a master at crafting and selling the lie he wants you to buy.

However, in the books, I don’t think Louis is too concerned with his own sexuality. Even given the time period, he doesn’t seem to make a big deal of his lacklustre response to women, including Babette. It is what it is. What does infringe on his ethical worldview is being attracted to a murderer, and how this reflects on him since he’s one just as well—NOT being attracted to a man.

And what Lestat does mock Louis about is being a reluctant killer and trying to avoid/deny his vampiric nature. With Armand, I don’t think sexuality is something that would’ve even occurred to him since that wasn’t a concern to him as a human, and definitely not as a vampire. Now, if Louis had been one of Armand’s human pets with human urges, this would be a very different conversation.

Given the subtext of IWTV and the subsequent books, we can gather that Louis is particularly bitter towards Lestat and Armand at this point in time (as he very well should be!).

Yet, over the next decade or so after the interview, we see him passionately (by Louis standards) reunite with Lestat in TVL, have his princess moment collapsing into Armand’s arms in QotD, and then overall just agonize over both their shenanigans all the way through to the end of the series. Poor guy, really.

Armand is absolutely Hannibal Lector meets Christian Grey, but to Daniel. Maybe Denis too, RIP.

[maroonghoul]

Thoughts on Slashers

While Horror in general as a film genre seems to be more popular then ever before, for the specific subgenres with it, that’s a little more complicated. I’ll admit, of all of them doing a resurgence both commercially AND critically, I wouldn’t have expected the Slashers being among them. 

Let’s face it; even during it’s first heyday in the 80s, they were kind of seen as the lowest, most creatively and ‘morally’ bankrupt type of films there, whether by critics or parents. They were the punching bag; the stereotype, because they had the gall to make the source of the horror, not something as eloquent as the vampire or as metaphorical as the radioactive dinosaur. No, these films, new for their time, said that a person putting on an outfit and mindlessly killing people was all it took to make plenty of films around for artistic consumption. 

I will say, I wasn’t always the biggest fan of it either. Even now, I currently have a love/hate relationship with the Friday the 13th movies. (The ones anyone who doesn’t watch horror movies think ALL of them are like). I’ve only seen three Friday movies (4, 5, and the remake), and I plan to seen more. There’s nothing intentionally deep over the one’s I’ve seen and that’s fine. I am now in the frame of mind where I can enjoy them enough as they are, a fun way to kill an hour and a half. Though I guess for non horror fans, it’s just jarring to have an antagonist as figurately and literally blunt as Jason Voorhees. A character that makes no profound speeches, has no large plans, and whose motivation quickly loses sympathy the more he attacks just anyone he comes across. Offbeat mask aside, compared to the tentpole movies villains like Darth Vader and Hannibal Lector, he seems banal and uninteresting.

But, living through these past ten years or so reading news on the kind of hellscape our country either turns into and reveals itself to have always been, we realized that the villains of the real world ARE banal. They are not nearly as smart or sympathetic as they see themselves to be or even compared to the most infamous of fictional villains. Even the most interesting they get is how far short they prove to be at that. (Look over at the newest owner of Twitter for a good recent example). And well, what do you know,  there’s too many psychos in costumes killing people by the dozens here too. They just use M15s instead of machetes.

I’m not saying, villains intended to be sympathetic are bad or lesser then. But, I feel we’re at a point where a lot of us are more attracted to villains less interested in trying to be complex and more one’s looking to cut to the chase. They are confident in themselves if nothing else, but that goes a long way. Okay, that’s a bit contradictory, saying the most effective villains were one I was calling banal a second ago. It’s more like they know how to prioritize. Motivation can matter a bit, but not as much as how they kill, I feel. 

Michael Myers’s original debut and his return in the most recent trilogy was way more successful to audiences then the Rob Zombie remakes, primarily because the knew there was no possible reason to reveal or explain why he kills people that people would buy or thought was worth looking into. He’s horrible not because what made him snap or that he was evil all along. But that when he did decide to kill, everything he needed to kill the people he did were all easy to get. We don’t just admire the creativity of the kills, but appreciate the warning about how these mundane things in our lives could kill us.

I think that’s it. Most monster movies before Halloween and such, has it so while the monster is scary, it just meant we should be really be scared of who or what created it, Whether it’d be the mad scientist avoiding responsibility or radiation spread about by uncaring military powers. Most slashers are caused by something more mundane; middle-class suburbia. Michael’s the obvious example. Jason and his mother turned their back on the world because he was mistreated to the point of extreme negligence by more privileged children. Freddy was already a monster made way worse by careless bureaucratic mistakes and mob justice. The Ghostface reveal in the original Scream (plus the sequels minus three to a lesser extent), still hold up BECAUSE it’s just two entitled white boys who took more lessons on life from the friggin’ movies then their own parents. Candyman...just everything about Candyman, really. Even in cases where a slasher is from a more out-there source, he find his way into an environment like this and he’s able to kill more efficiently because of it’s structural rules and beliefs have a blind spot. (’Alien’ in that it was the characters own employers that invited the monster in, ‘The Terminator’ in that no one will help fight it because everyone was raised not to believe in killer robots, etc.)

I don’t think this deep meaning was intended for every slasher film, not even ‘Halloween’. (Though I think Wes Craven did intend it in just about all his films). Some of them, especially the ones who behind the Friday films, were just looking to make some popcorn movies. It’s just that they were using a core idea they didn’t need to overthink. Though any additional thought is not unwelcome as long as they stay off the soapbox.

In the end, they are monster movies like Frankenstein. It’s just that the role of the Doctor is filled by not by the outsider, nor was it done via mad science or Satan worshippers. They are created by the society occupied by middle-class America’s indifference and entitlement. WE created the monster.

No wonder parents were pissed. They were being directly called out. And no wonder Slashers came back in popularity. We were receptive to the warning again.

And that’s not even getting into the Final Girl. But that’s a rant for another day.

[storiesforallfandoms]

are you going to hurt me? ~ hannibal lecter;hannibal

word count: 2259

request?: no

description: after she finds that one of the fbi’s most trustworthy psychiatrists is actually the murderer they’re looking for, she decides to confront him about it

pairing: hannibal lector x female!reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of murder, violence, implied smut

masterlist

From the minute he entered his office, Hannibal knew he wasn’t alone. He carried on to his desk, waiting for her to step out of the shadows, as he was almost certain he knew who was there as well.

“You’re the murderer they’re looking for.”

Hannibal turned and was unsurprised to see the FBI’s newest intern, (Y/N), standing at the railing of the floor overlooking his office. She was still in her work clothes - dress pants, a white blouse tucked into her pants, a pair of black dress shoes. She tried too hard to impress her superiors, especially Jack Crawford, but Hannibal could tell she was an intelligent woman that didn’t need to dress so well to impress them.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he responded, simply.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” she said. “The murderer, the one taking their organs, it’s not someone trying to illegally sell organs on the black market. It’s you.”

Hannibal chuckled, amused by her discovery. “Funny that it took an intern to figure that out, not one of the professionals.”

She seemed shocked that he was admitting to it, like she didn’t want him to be a murderer. “You’re...you’re admitting to it?”

“Well, there’s no reason to lie now since you’ve figured it out.”

(Y/N) felt uneasy now. She was starting to see the error of her ways. Why would she just come and confront Hannibal like this by herself? If he hadn’t confessed, she was basically risking her job on the FBI by accusing him of murder, but now that he had confessed, she was locked in a room with a murderer, and no one knew she was there.

Hannibal approached the ladder that led to the floor. (Y/N) took a step away from the railing, thinking he was about to come up after her. He stopped, noticing her hesitation.

“Humor me,” he told her, “tell me how you figured it out.”

“I heard you and Will talking,” she responded. “You were telling him about the black market and people stealing organs for it. Up until then, he hadn’t even considered that to be an option. He just thought that the murders were that of the Chesapeake Ripper, or a copycat. Or both. Then, when we were talking about it today, he started talking about black market organ selling. He was convinced that that’s what the Ripper, or the copycat Ripper, was doing. He was trying to convince us into looking into the black market to find a suspect, and everyone believed him.”

“Everyone but you.”

She nodded. “I’ve been in toxic relationships, I know what manipulation sounds like. You were manipulating him to get him off your scent, and it worked.”

She was perceptive, he was impressed. But now that she knew, a million solutions to his problem were running through Hannibal’s head. She had come alone, he could kill her right now and no one would even know she had been there. Of course, he’d have to wash down his office to rid it of any fingerprints that she may have left. But could he get away with killing another FBI intern? He had gotten lucky with Miriam Lass, maybe he wouldn’t have been so lucky with (Y/N).

He was also shocked to find that he didn’t want to kill her. Hannibal had grown fond of (Y/N) over the short few months he had known her. They had grown such a close bond that he often invited (Y/N) over for dinners, and he found himself excited when he would enter Jack’s office, or follow them to arrest a killer, and (Y/N) would be with them. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to kill (Y/N) like he had everyone else.

She began to descend the ladder, an action that her mind was screaming at her not to do, but her heart was telling her she could trust Hannibal. He wasn’t going to hurt her, not now anyways.

“I have to know,” she started, “are you...are you the Chesapeake Ripper?”

Hannibal nodded. “I am.”

“So...you killed all those people? Even the newest victims, the ones missing their organs?”

“I did.”

“There was never a copycat. It was always you.”

Hannibal nodded to confirm again.

(Y/N)’s entire body was shaking. She was standing inches from a murderer. Of course, being an intern with the FBI, this wasn’t her first time coming face to face with a murderer. But this was different, for one, she actually knew this murderer. It wasn’t some unknown face in the crowd, it was someone she considered a friend. And two, she wasn’t protected this time. No one knew she was there. He could’ve killed her and disposed of her body and no one would even think to question Dr. Hannibal Lecter for the murder.

“What happens now, (Y/N)?” Hannibal asked, approaching her again. She fought the urge to back away from him. She had to seem brave in this moment, not weak and afraid.

“I didn’t come here to turn you in,” she admitted. “I came to get the confirmation, to find out if I was right about my suspicions.”

“And now that you have?”

“I’m impressed,” she admitted. “You’ve been so close with the FBI, with Will, close enough that your cover could’ve been blown at any moment, but you’re so confident that you weren’t going to be caught.”

“Not confident enough, so it would seem.”

They were inches away from each other now, but (Y/N) suddenly didn’t feel scared of him. She wasn’t sure if he was going to hurt her or not, but it was as if she didn’t really care anymore.

“What happens now, Dr. Lecter?” she asked him, looking up into his brown eyes.

Instead of a response, Hannibal acted on impulse and wrapped his hands around her throat. The action took (Y/N) by surprise as he began to lift her off of her feet, squeezing her throat between his large hands. The air escaped from (Y/N)’s lungs quickly and she felt herself becoming lightheaded. In a moment of panic, she began to swing her legs, managing to make connection with Hannibal’s stomach. He doubled over in pain, dropping her to the floor.

(Y/N) landed with a thud and began to breathe heavily. She had mere moments before Hannibal would regain himself, and she knew she had to use that time wisely. While still gasping for air, she got to her feet and raced for the door. Just before reaching for the knob, she felt an arm being wrapped around her throat and her airways closing again. Hannibal began to drag her back into his office as she flailed her arms and legs, trying desperately to get out of his grip.

She managed to start clawing at his arm, digging her nails so deep into his arm that she managed to pierce the skin under his shirt. Hannibal exclaimed in pain, but only loosened his grip on (Y/N) slightly. It was enough for her to wriggle free. She turned to face him and swung a punch, managing to connect with his face.

Before she could make another get away, Hannibal grabbed her and shoved her back until her back collided with his desk. He shoved her so she was leaning back onto his desk and grabbed a nearby knife that he always kept for cases like this. He held the knife to her throat, the cold blade just lightly touching her skin. (Y/N) knew she should’ve been terrified, but she couldn’t bring herself to be properly scared. Instead, she looked into Hannibal’s eyes yet again, waiting to feel the blade pierce her skin.

“Are you going to kill me, Dr. Lecter?” she asked, her voice just barley a whisper.

Their faces were inches from one another and they were both panting from the fight. Hannibal had planned to press that blade to her throat and to kill her right then and there, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Above all else, he couldn’t imagine not seeing her anymore, to live with her death on his conscious, and that was a feeling that he had never had before.

Instead, he dropped the knife onto his desk and kissed (Y/N) in one swift movement. (Y/N) was caught by surprise, but it didn’t take her long to melt into the kiss. Hannibal took hold of her shoulders and pulled her so that she was sitting up on the desk instead. He placed himself between her legs, wrapping his arms around her so he could hold her as close to him as he possibly could.

(Y/N) moved her hands to start unbuttoning his blazer and his shirt, while Hannibal wasted no time in ripping her shirt open, her buttons flying off and scattering over his floor. His hands slipped under her shirt and ran over her bare skin, causing her to shiver at his touch. She pressed herself as close to him as she could as she put a hand on the back of his neck to deepen the kiss.

~~~~~~

Some time later, they were tangled together on the couch in Hannibal’s office. (Y/N) had her head resting on his chest, listening to his rapid heartbeat beginning to slow back to normal. She was mindlessly tracing circles on his chest with her hand, still trying to grasp what had just happened.

“You’ll have to burn this couch now,” she joked.

“I may,” Hannibal chuckled. “Or I may leave it as it is. A constant reminder of what happened on this couch, even when a patient comes and sits on it.”

(Y/N) moved her head to look at him. “That’s dirty, I like it.”

Hannibal smiled and kissed the top of her head.

“So, what happens now?” she asked him. “With me knowing your secret, and now us having slept together.”

“I trust you knowing my secret, I don’t think you are going to tell anyone, especially not Will or Jack,” he responded. “As for us sleeping together, it does cause a conflict of interest if anyone within the FBI finds out, especially Jack. We may not be allowed to work so closely together anymore as it could be argued that we’re being bias towards the other if they know we’re together.”

Hannibal’s choice of words intrigued (Y/N). She sat up slightly so that she could really look at him. “Together?”

“Maybe I’m being a little too ambitious with my phrasing,” Hannibal said.

“I’m just shocked that you’re so willing to decide we’re together after sleeping together once,” she admitted. “Most guys aren’t like that, not the ones I’ve been with anyways. They use you for sex then they’re out of your life for good.”

Hannibal at up as well to cup (Y/N)’s face with one hand. She looked into his eyes yet again. (Y/N) could get used to having those eyes looking at her with so much affection, it made her feel warm and fuzzy inside.

“I’m not like most guys,” he responded. (Y/N) tried not to chuckle at this, as it was very apparent that Hannibal was not like most people at all. “I don’t believe in having sex with someone without having some sort of affection for them.”

“Neither do I,” (Y/N) agreed. “Does that mean you have feelings for me, Dr. Lecter.”

Hannibal smiled. “I believe you should start calling me by my name if we’re to be intimate like this again.”

(Y/N) smiled so wide her cheeks were hurting. She couldn’t help herself as she leaned forward and began to kiss Hannibal again, lightly pushing him back on the couch so that she could straddle him again. They were so lost in one another that they almost didn’t hear the sound of Hannibal’s phone ringing, but when it continued with persistence, they realized it couldn’t be ignored.

Hannibal shifted (Y/N) so that he could carefully place her on the couch before reaching for his phone, which was in the pocket of his discarded pants on the floor.

“Hello?” There was a brief pause as whoever was on the other end spoke. (Y/N) sat up and began to kiss Hannibal’s exposed shoulders, moving slowly to his neck, in an attempt to tease him. It worked, as Hannibal moved his head to give (Y/N) more access to his neck, and she could see he was holding back a groan. “Yes, I am free. You can come over as soon as you can. See you then.”

(Y/N) pouted as Hannibal stood.

“Will is on his way here for an emergency session,” he explained. “I don’t believe it would be good for him to walk in on the two of us like this.”

(Y/N) sighed. “Yeah, you’re right. I should get going.”

Hannibal offered her his blazer. "I can replace the shirt that I ruined.”

She gratefully took it and pulled it on over her exposed body. It didn’t hide everything as much as a shirt would, but she was going straight home so it wasn’t like she had to worry too much.

As Hannibal ushered her out of his office, he grabbed her arm to stop her before she left completely. (Y/N) giggled as he pulled her to him, giving her one last kiss.

“I will see you again soon,” he promised her.

She smiled and responded, “I’ll be waiting.”

i was originally going to call this imagine “are you going to kill me?” but figured tumblr wouldn’t appreciate that

[cantarella-if]

Oh Ho? Hello. I don’t know about my mc yet but let’s see. What if my mc was like:

I’m a big nerd. Not in the “uwu I like reading” sense, but in the “I know for no reason how many apple seeds it takes to kill a man and what flavors match best with cyanide” and “one time I memorized how to make 50 different knots but i can’t untangle my jewelry”. I love libraries, but hate reading. I sit on couches upside down sometimes. I don’t have time for this. Death doesn’t bother me, and find it rather curious. Hannibal Lector is a sort of twisted role model and I love intellectual horror media. If I don’t like you I’ll just ignore you. Don’t be an ass. I am an asshole sometimes. Is that hypocritical? I don’t care.

What’s that get me? 🤣

I've been rereading this for a good 10 minutes now and to be honest...

I think I'm leaning towards Mercedes (she's not an LI but she loves horror movies and creepy stuff) but since we are talking about the LIs, in this scenario I would pair your MC up with Jayme. I know it's a bit surprising, but random knowledge is their bread and butter, plus I can see them being amused by how your MC lays on the couch.

[the-slasher-files]

Slashers - As Dogs pt 1

INCLUDES MICHAEL, JASON, FREDDY, BUBBA, HANNIBAL

This is for my fellow dog lovers. I have always had dogs and I am a huge dog enthusiast, love researching breeds and history, so hopefully I do everyone right by the dog breeds I matched them with... Enjoy :)  

MICHAEL MYERS - Turkish Kangal

(disclaimer this breed has a lot of bad breeding practices, and training rituals that some people do with them that I do not support!) 

This dog is an absolute massive livestock guardian dog. Also known as an Anatolian Shepherd. 

They were bred to protect livestock from bears, wolves, and jackals without fear. Even some of them have been bred in Africa to fend off lions. Some Turkish people call them "the wolf killers" 

It is regarded to have the strongest bite force of any other canine.

Their nature is calm, strong, independent, controlled, silent and alert to the surroundings constantly.  

These dogs need hardly any training to be a guard dog, they will watch the older ones and pick up on the subtleties. Watching and observing at all times.

When there is a threat they stand tall and give one loud warning bark to the humans and flock to move to safety. Their first instinct is to put themselves in front of the danger protecting anything it guards with their life. 

Also they could care less if they have affection from someone. It is a type of dog that you just leave it to do it’s work and it is happy. 

Defiantly not a city dog unless it has a lot of freedom, and defiantly not for the faint of heart

JASON VOORHEES - Irish wolfhound

Irish Wolfhounds are my personal favorite dog breed. They are incredible massive dogs that were bred for hunting wolves. They would chase the wolves down and hold them in place waiting for the master, but it was known that some would kill the wolf even before the master could do it. 

These dogs are an ancient breed appearing as early as AD 600, they were a dog of royalty and knights. Writing in 1790, they were described as the largest and most beautiful of the dog kind

The wolfhounds had almost become extinct, because they over hunted and ran the wolves out of Ireland. Only a few remained and were held with particular families trying to not let them completely die out. In the early 1800′s they were brought back from the brink of extinction, mixing in original breeds that created it, bringing their numbers back up (like Jason brought back to life)

They could still hunt wolves and other prey but they have such a soft and gentle side to them. 

Nicknamed “the gentle giants” Their nature is truly kind and gentle, silent, calm, protective and ever watchful. The Irish wolfhound motto is “gentle when stroked, fierce when provoked”  

Their appearance is shaggy and not exactly the “cutest”, they stand as the tallest dog breed (yup bigger than a great dane) with a broad chest and a strong body. They appear as if it is “fast enough to catch a wolf, and strong enough to kill it”   

Also these dogs love outside and just look majestic af in the forest   

FREDDY  KRUEGER - Chihuahua terrier mix

We all know Freddy is an ass that likes to mess people for fun, so I think he would be a chihuahua but mixed with some sort of terrier. I honestly like chihuahuas but I am not a big fan of terriers so I gave him this lol

Terriers and chihuahuas both love to bark and Freddy always mouths' off so its fitting

Friendly until they are not, hyper, has a big personality, needs a lot of attention, they have a lot of weird quirks

They also love to obsess over their people and they are very particular about the people they pick

A lot of people always say the boys of these breeds are particularly horny and hump everything lol

Terriers were bred to hunt small animals and go into dens. To me this relates to Freddy because he hunts people, particularly younger people, being smaller. And the den thing makes me think of Freddy’s favorite horror dream space, the boiler room

Since Freddy is not that large but he acts like he is 7ft and indestructible, that is what these dogs are known for if not trained correctly    

BUBBA SAWYER - Pitbull

Misunderstood and bred to fight, getting a horrible wrap, but its all about how you raise them.

The pitbull is actually a broad term used for some type of bulldog mix. Essentially they are mutts and I feel that the whole cannibal family is bred from mutts, not really belonging to anything but themselves

Also the size and shape fits very well for Bubba

Naturally caring, sensitive, protective, usually friendly, and love a family environment

Gentle babies you could just hold forever

HANNIBAL LECTOR - Border Collie

These dogs have been labeled to be the smartest dogs on the planet. Used for hearding livestock they have to out think whatever they are hearding, and they do that well

If you don’t have a job for these dogs they will destroy your house, get into things, escape yards and they will try to outsmart you

They are dogs that do not need to be big or scary to intimidate, they physiologically intimidate

Their nature is extremely smart, loyal, caution, mysterious, energetic and protective 

I feel like if they could dress themselves they would be very distinguished, just like Hannibal  

[carmenxjulia]

Another Duane interview transcript, coming at you! This one was from a smaller Carmen Sandiego chatroom. There were several interviewers, so that’s why the name of the question asker changes. Get the details below the break! Stay tuned, more interview transcripts coming soon.

Duane Capizzi:

HI EVERYONE! I'M IN!

Sorry I'm late, I got lost on the way haha. Then got lost trying to change my PFP

Thanks for gathering! Shall we get started? Let's do some Q&A!

(as long as they are not geography questions haha)

Fuel:

What characters or plot points were cut from the final product?

Duane Capizzi:

Ooo, starting with a right hook to the jaw!

Let me think about that for a moment: I'm hesitant to give too much away because I'm really hoping we can tell more stories in this world at some point

Which is to say, we tend not to waste anything: if we don't use it when we originally planned, we usually find a way to use something later - and there's usually a "karmic" reason that we waited.

I'll also preface by saying this: I know season 3 was more of a mini-drop and some felt season 4 was rushed. But I wish EVERY season were longer. Season 1: ideally, i wanted the Pilot to be its own event and 10 more episodes after that (but we had to tell the post-Pilot story in 7. At the end of the day, that had its benefits: we got to the Shadowsan turn earlier and I think that's when a lot of viewers realized the ride they were truly in for). Season 2: we initially figured we'd need 5 episodes to have Carmen doing the ACME dance with Chief, and wound up doing it in 3 - mostly because it quickly became clear that Rio needed to be a 2 parter, and the Zack and Ivy backstory a rough 2 parter. So we squeezed 3 episodes worth of plot into 209. It was exhilarating!

So, we had hoped to have more episodes for Season 4 of course. We had a ton of ideas and had to compress things a bit. But honestly in many ways it was for the better. I know we all wanted to live in this world longer, but I think sometimes the flip side is true - when you have big ongoing storylines, it can get frustrating when some things drag out too long. But, we got all the "story" we wanted to tell in Season 4 - we just lost some "incident" if that makes sense. We would have taken longer to get there.

So, all that preface to answer the question: we wanted to do more musical numbers! We had a Bollywood dance sequence in a return to India caper with Paperstar. We wanted to do a famous Elvis suit theft in Las Vegas during an Elvis impersonator convention (Shadowsan's an early elvis guy; Brunt likes the Vegas "jumpsuit" era). We also wanted to do a thread where Gunnar gets captured by ACME so that Julia could interrogate him and he could play mind games with her a la Hannibal Lector and Clarice. CAVEAT TO ALL THIS: these were some ideas that were bouncing around, that may not have seen the light of day if we couldn't get them to work. But they were on our wish list.

re: "other stories" - I could live with these characters for another 32 episodes easily and there have of course been discussions. But alas, that is up to the powers that be. Let's keep fingers crossed - and keep the Carmen love alive online so that someone up there takes note

There is more of course, but those are some things that spring to mind.

Fuel:

Were there any scenes cut for time that were your favorite?

Duane Capizzi:

Not much springs to mind: our directors were amazing at getting everything in the scripts to fit naturally (and in fact, I was the one who was usually suggesting trims to let other things breathe, etc). We were limited to 22 minutes of episode time, NOT counting front and end credits so a little longer than the average show. We have a pretty good idea when the SCRIPT is too long, so the cutting usually happens at script stage before it gets to the board crew so that they don't waste efforts over-boarding material that won't be used.

We had hoped to build out Chase and Carmen teaming up for the first time, meeting at Carmen's hotel lobby etc for more scenes of them together; but had to reduce that to get that all to fit in the VERY packed episode 406. But again, tighter was fine considering. That's one area that leaps to mind. (note that when I say packed, I don't mean that in a bad way: we spend a lot of time pouring over details in editing to make sure everything gets its due).

If I think of anything, I'll circle back at a later point. But the simple answer is that scenes were usually trimmed or compressed at script rather than board or animatic. So nothing comes to mind. I know it's hard to believe, but "shorter is usually better."

except for my answers to fan questions of course

Fuel:

We saw that in s4 episode 6 that Julia's mother(?) is wearing a necklace remarkably similar to the one Julia wears all the time. Is this the same necklace and if so, why was it given to Julia?

Duane Capizzi:

Just when I thought I was detail oriented! Wow! You guys blow me away

I can't take credit for that: it was either the board artist or director who added that. They do slip things in! As I've said before, EVERYONE on the crew really brought their A-game and were as deep thinking and as passionate as I was/am about the show.

It's a nice detail and I would say your interpretation works!

It took me three or four reviews before noticing that the team had slipped in baby Carmen near the play set in Mom's front yard at the end of 408. When I caught it, I was like: bravo!

Fuel:

When they first met, Zack and Ivy said to Carmen that they were the only family they had, do you know what happened to the rest of Zack and Ivy's family?

Duane Capizzi:

I don't. At least, I don't yet until such a time that I might have the opportunity to explore that. It was important to their relationship with Carmen that they be orphans, so they had that common bond (aside from being "thieves who steal from bad guys" - even if it was only gonna be one time for Zack and Ivy).

I know there are writers out there who like to do entire bio's for characters up front but i'm not one of them. It could be a trap in many ways. I like to have a general idea but be open to the demands of the ongoing storyline. You discover things along the way - it's like you're taking a journey with the characters by writing them, and the longer you spend, the better you get to know them (that was not a prepared statement by the way - I just made that up but I'll have to use it again :). So in Z/I's case it wasn't important to the story or Carmen's relationship, we felt. Conversely, we STARTED with Shadowsan's family backstory with 203, but more important to me was that we use it as a platform to explain why he stays with Carmen and crew. He really has no home at that point, so it was relevant to the present ongoing story. Which is what made that especially powerful to me.

Also, there's always a push-pull between telling character back stories while balancing them with ongoing episodic plots. You have to service both. If you just tell back story, then you're writing a biography

Arden:

What was the biggest challenge when designing these characters, especially the pre-existing characters from the series in the 90's?

Duane Capizzi:

This is probably more of a question for Chromosphere, re: challenges. But from my standpoint overseeing that process, the first thing I'll say is that we weren't necessarily trying to be "true" to those characters since we reinvented nearly every one from the ground up. (with the exception of Carmen of course - her trademark red hat/coat weren't going anywhere! But mostly the update with Carmen was in the styling of her "outerwear"

ALTHOUGH: I will admit that I was pushing for Carmen to have shorter hair as Carmen. I thought it would be a cool update. Chromosphere were really passionate about giving her long full hair and I have to see that they were right. The short tomboy cut worked so well for Black Sheep anyway. We had a different hair style for each of her ages.

So about the reinventions: Gunnar is in spirit a similar character to the original (old colleague in Vile and an early mentor if I remember), but his presentation completely different. We weren't trying to be "in canon" with the original. The beauty of CSD is that every incarnation has been its own entity so that freed us to reimagine the characters. THE CLEANERS, for instance: gimme some Cleaner love! There were a pair of janitors from the original game named RICK AND NICK ICK. They were literally janitors, it was too silly for our purposes. But, it's one small step to make them "Cleaners" (in the sinister hit men sense) - and lo, our reinvention.

So to summarize the answer to your question, they weren't really challenges to me so much as FUN to creatively reinvent the original characters (many of which were from the game, so not really "characters" per se with dialogue and inner lives). Whenever we could, we tried to use character names from the originals and update their looks and personalities. Where we couldn't find an equivalent for what we needed, we created characters from whole cloth. For instance, it seemed a miss to do a heist show without a tunnel guy and a high rise climber guy. Hence, LC & ET, everyone's favorite taco truck vendors!

(yes, i've seen some short hair carmen fan art on Twitter - someone did a great one recently!)

Arden:

Are there plans to give us more of the characters in, say, novel/graphic novel form?

Duane Capizzi:

I know HMH has done a bunch and no doubt have more in works. There's currently a novelization of the Pilot with some additional material if anyone's interested. I consulted on the second one, Clue for Clue, because it falls in the timeline while Chase was still Interpol/pre-Acme so was tricky.

And depending on whether another series in this canon makes it to air, I may just approach them about writing one or two myself to get some "further adventures" our there. Anything is possible!

Arden:

If you could go back and change anything about the series, what would it be?

Duane Capizzi:

File under anecdote, but there was what I felt was an important expression on Gray that kept me awake at nights, from his graduation ceremony at Vile. When we revisited those flashbacks in the Gray arc in Season 4, I had them change his expression there (to be more evil less innocent). We had it corrected in 404 so was able to get permission to have Netflix "fix" the Pilot by adding that shot in. I am tenacious!

We really poured over everything, it's the series that I have virtually zero complaints with the end product to be honest. But the simple answer is: I would have gone back to 106 and "un-greek'd" Gray's nametag. It's sort of a rule for international that we scramble signage (which is weird for a show that takes place in many countries/languages, I know I know). It's mostly for localization/translation reasons. And I'm sure there are some countries where Gray's name might be spoken differently. But as a proper name, I think we could have made an exception and seen "Gray" on his name tag. See? Details! But that's about the worst of it

there's also like one small line from Chief in 208 where she indicates she knows Carmen is a good guy (something to that effect) which I felt was too absolute and would have tweaked the line to temper it a bit. It's tiny, but looking back it sort of bugs me and I kick myself for not catching it. But this is absolutely the series I wanted and couldn't be happier.

Carmen:

How did Carmen know she could trust Julia? As far as we know, she has not seen or heard Julia defending her, and in the Fashionista Caper, Julia even held up her gas gun to her, saying she was under arrest. Do you have any opinions on this? Was it just intuition?

Duane Capizzi:

I'm gonna go with intuition

Carmen was raised on an island with some hardened criminal types. I think she's a pretty good judge of character. Poor Julia, trying to be tough with Carmen didn't suit her.

But, great observation! I'd have to mentally step through everything to see if Carmen had any earlier indication but i think you're right there.

Yes, sometimes you just gotta follow your heart

Carmen:

Are there any characters that didn't actually interact that you think would get along well?

Duane Capizzi:

Amazing question! First, I'd have to think more about who DIDN'T meet - you're asking the hard questions haha. But "get along well" is very specific! Hmmm, care to volley anyone?

I'll also add that so many smaller moments get lost in the "binge" of it all, but I am surprised how few fans have noted the first meeting between Player and Julia. THAT was a good one IMO! Very sweet!

Before getting back to your question, I also want to add that we were originally going to find a way for Carmen to lose her earring in Stockholm so that Julia could pick it up and be communicating with Player. BUT, I cut it at treatment stage because I knew we didn't have room in that episode to service it. Circling back to questions 1 & 2, another case where it turned out better saved for later IMO (saving Player meeting Julia, not to mention the earring business in 402 with Ivy).

Oh of course, Julia and any of the other Vile members. It would have been Gunnar for my vote, as mentioned earlier. We probably would not have had Julia meet anyone else and mixed it up more. I like that Cleo sort of became J's personal nemesis.

YES, SONIA & XIFENG (and LUPE PELIGRO, if I can add). The intent was (and is, if we ever get to revisit) to see them again in Carmen's travels. We started to expand Carmen's world but when we finally learned the finite number of episodes we had to finish the story, we drilled back down into the essentials. Would love to see them some day!

I'm hesitant to share too many things I have in mind in this forum for hope that they will see the light of day one day. You know, "spoilers"

Julia:

Do you have any opinions on Zari? Just in general? Some thoughts on her backstory would be nice if possible

Duane Capizzi:

I love Zari! I really don't have any back story on her at this point. She was originally just "Agent B" but when the need arose to give story points to another agent, we chose her because she looked so awesome! And Sharon Muthu gave voice to her so wonderfully.

I love when we finally teamed her with Chase. Hopefully the anticipation was that she would give him a hard time. I love that we defied expectation (organically, of course) and had her respect him by the end of that episode (for believing that he foiled Carmen!)

Julia:

Do you have any thoughts on small facts about any character, major or minor, that you think are fun/interesting to think about, but don't necessarily add to the plot itself?

Duane Capizzi:

Bellum, like myself, likes cats. But you knew that!

I try to put everything pertinent on screen, doing double duty to service any given episode's story but also the overarching story. That "journey" thing I mentioned earlier - we had no idea Chase falling on his own car would be a thing when I first came up with it. But as other characters refer to the incident, it took on a life of its own and made the characters feel more real.

Sorta kinda related to this question and some earlier ones, I will say that I DO think there's more to learn about Shadowsan's past vis a vis Lady Dokuso: it's clear to me that they have a history together, and it's something I hope to explore someday soon (maybe in a book if not another series

Julia:

Are the Carmen Sandiego books a part of canon?

Duane Capizzi:

I only consulted on the first two or three (too busy with series!) and have not read them, so hard for me to answer in a definite way. They are definitely in the universe we've created, but not in the timeline that I know of (which would have been too hard to pull off with our script development running concurrently). But do know that the book team at HMH pays close attention to the series and world so they should be perfectly compatible. Look no further to their clever social media on the series for example.

Kenz:

We saw in season 4 that Julia and Carmen helped each other mid to long term; would there ever be a possibility that Julia would permanently or semi-permanently join team Red?

Duane Capizzi:

Of course there's a possibility. But in a sense, with ACME now finally on Carmen's side, in a sense if Carmen were back in the game Julia, Chase, Zack and Ivy would ALL be an extension of Carmen's crew. But, would J remain with ACME or literally come to Carmen's team at her HQ? As they said in an old radio show: "Only The Duane Capizzi knows ..."

Kenz:

Where do you see Carmen in her retirement (if she retires)? Do you think she would still travel the world or settle down somewhere? Similarly, do you have any thoughts on what some other characters could be doing years down the line?

Duane Capizzi:

That is a big question, and one difficult to answer without some potential future spoilers (and yes, I really want to tell more Carmen stories if you can't tell But I'll answer by giving you one "read" on our open-ended ending as seen in 408 (read no further if you haven't seen it - yeah, right haha). The ending suggests to me that Carmen settled down for a spell to forge that relationship with her mother, to make up for lost time. But, if that is indeed Carmen that we see on the rooftop, I think the ending suggests that Carmen doesn't stay still for very long. If Vile is back, there is work to be done! Carmen has a life mission - she's one determined lady.

But of course, it's deliberately ambiguous: "anyone with your heart, wisdom and courage can be Carmen Sandiego." Is it Carmen? Sonia? Someone we haven't met? I think both endings resonate: Caroline and I always said "Carmen is bigger than a person, Carmen is a movement" would be a great message to end the series on. And I think our ending resolves this chapter of Carmen's journey as a person, but also elevates her to mythic status. Which is why I love it!

And, that seems to me a pretty perfect question and answer to end our chat on. Thanks everyone! Again, I cannot tell you how moved I am to see that we have such a passionate, intelligent and talented fan base. THANK YOU.

Take care guys, thanks again for having me! 'night!

[ivanaskye]

i’ve never heard of the osmosis meme but if it means ‘what i know through osmosis about a media i’ve never seen’ what do you know about either doctor who, hannibal, or glee? (Pick one that you don’t know!)

I UNFORTUNATELY watched doctor who for a while but lemme do the other two.

Hannibal

So, Hannibal Lector. He eats people. But like, in a stylish way.

Murders keep happening with the bodies being missing and no one knows why (it’s because they are eaten.) Enter: Will, private investigator(??? Or police??? Detective???)

Will is like. “Gosh Hannibal I sure am working hard to figure out these murders.”

Hannibal is like “here is a beautiful cut of steak definitely from a cow for you to try”

This is EXTREMELY homoerotic and somehow goes on for three or more seasons without Will figuring out who the murderer is

But also Hannibal is slowly manipulating him so the finale is Will like??? Joining in on murder???

Presumedly there are more than literally just two characters but no one talks about them.

Glee

Oh god

It was a semi musical tv show bc see it was about a GLEE CLUB so they SING (probably whatever random songs were popular at the time)

Apparently the fandom was some kind of battleground that took no survivors. Blood was drawn with every episode, swords were clashed, etc

Someone was gay but like in a really boring way? There were other characters who FELT gay but were never confirmed?

??????????

I think I saw someone once say that one of the teachers (gym mb??? Either that or the actual person in charge of the glee club???) was really well written ??????

[randomwordprompts]

If It's Magic | Chapter 11

Summary: Let's meet some new characters!

Taglist: @wakandan-flowerz @bakarilennox @yaachtynoboat711 @wakandas-vibranium @brwnsugababe @storibambino @thadelightfulone @reaperdeldrunk

A/N: I'm trying to get back into writing regularly, so feedback is always great.

The sounds of a big band playing old standards was the background music to the idle chatter that floated around the Manhattan ballroom. With various doctors, lawyers, and city officials scattered throughout, one might think that the Lector children stood out like a sore thumb. But, thanks to Hannibal's published studies being known globally they didn't get a second thought for being there in his place. All of that aside, the siblings were on a mission. Francois met up with their information source on the inside, who took them to meet the mark in question.

"Dr. Black, there are some people that would like to meet you."

Pausing the conversation with his wife, he turned to face the group with a smile that was so practiced it was believable if you didn't know any better. Jacob Black was a handsome man that had clearly aged well, his salt and pepper hair styled to perfection.

Dr., this is Francois, Jonathan, and Amira Lector. They’re here on the behalf of their father, Dr. Hannibal Lector?”

“Ah yes, Dr. Lector! I’ve read many of his studies and am a bit of a fan of his work. It’s nice to meet you three. I trust you’re enjoying yourselves?”

Francois spoke to the doctor of how happy they were to be attending in their father’s stead and the usual spiel of small talk that came about at events such as these. As everyone was talking and getting to know each other a bit more they were joined by another person. A young man who looked to be about the same age as Jonathan, slim and blonde with Jacob’s jawline and Mrs. Black’s eyes approached. He smiled at the small group before speaking.

“Hello mother, father. Who are your new friends?”

Before Jacob could introduce them Amira spoke up, her hand extended towards him with a warm smile.

“I’m Amira Lector and these are my siblings, Francois and Jonathan. We’re here on behalf of our father, Dr. Hannibal Lector. You must be Joseph, your parents were just talking about you.”

“All good things, I hope,” he replied as he took her hand and kissed the back of it.

She smirked coyly before going, “Anything bad you can prove wrong...or right.”

Jacob and his wife exchanged a knowing look behind their son’s back, recognizing the blatant flirting he was doing. Before Joseph could go any further Jacob decided to speak once more.

“Son, this is Amira’s first time here. Why don’t you show her around?”

“I’d be more than happy to if that’s what the lady would like.”

Amira stepped closer with their hands still connected.

“The lady would love to. Let’s start with a dance?”

Joseph’s brows rose at her forwardness but happily led her to the dance floor as the band began to play Frank Sinatra’s “Witchcraft”. He pulled her into his arms with ease and a smile that has probably charmed the panties off many of the daughters in that very room, but Amira found herself amused at how open his aura was. She knew he’d be easy to get info from once she got him to drop his “just a nice rich boy” act. With that in mind, she decided to take the direct approach.

“So, I think we’re far enough for your parents not to hear us. I go to the New School and heard there was this guy selling goods that looks a lot like you. What’s up with that?”

Joseph almost stumbled while they danced but caught himself before smiling at her forwardness.

“What’s up with what exactly, doll face? I have friends that go there, but I need to know what kind of goods you think I’m peddling.”

Amira leaned in so that their lips almost touched, her front pressed tightly against his before whispering, “I heard you have access to the best coke, and there’s nothing I wouldn’t give for a taste.”

Joseph audibly swallowed as her scent invaded his nose in the most delicious way, that combined with the softness of her body and voice casting a bit of a spell over him. His body immediately reacted and she noticed, subtly stroking her thigh along his crotch as they danced. Before he lost his mind she pulled away a bit, an innocent smile on her red lips as they continued to dance.

“When you put it that way, I think I just might have something for you. Meet me in the coat check in about 10 minutes and I’ll have something sweet just for you, beautiful.”

As the song ended they parted ways and she returned to her siblings to catch them up. She found them chatting up Dr. Black and some of his colleagues, the thought of how proud Hannibal would be to see his children rubbing elbows with these prestigious people brought a genuine smile to her face as she approached.

“Excuse me, sorry to interrupt you all,” she started before turning to her siblings, “I have some writing to finish for my psych class so I’m gonna grab a drink, freshen up a bit, and my siblings can escort me back to my dorm?”

Francois and Jonathan understood what she meant and let her know they’d have the car brought around. Amira left the group to meet up with Joseph while her siblings continued to converse for a bit longer.

Once at the door of the coat check room she gave two soft knocks to the door and was quickly greeted by the young man, who invited her in with that same charming smile.

"You know, I wouldn't have expected such a beauty to be into this stuff. But how much are you looking to buy?"

Amira shrugged, "We all have our vices, Mr. Black. But I think an eighth is enough to start. How much?"

"Only 100 for an eighth, but I've got other things as well. You ever tried heroin with the coke?"

"You mean speedballing? Heard of it, never tried it."

Joseph grinned with a devilish glint in his eyes, clearly having either tried it or seen its effects before.

"It's pretty damn good from what I've been told. Since I like you, I'll give you some heroin on top for an extra 50 just so you can try it out."

Amira hummed thoughtfully before reaching into her clutch and pulling out 200 dollars without batting an eye, Joseph holding a bag he kept stashed in the room in case he got any high-end "customers". He pulled out the pre-packaged and measured drugs, handing them to her as she handed him the money. She placed the drugs into her purse and thanked him before leaving the coat check room, looking around to make sure no one saw her. A vibration from her phone alerted her to a call from Jonathan.

“Hey, you good?”

“Yeah, I just got the candy. You brought the car around?”

“Yeah, me and Fran are in the car now. We’ll see you in a few.”

“Alright, on my way.”

With that, she slipped down the stairs towards the lobby as Joseph came out of the room behind her, heading back towards the party. Once Amira reached the lobby, she gave the doorman a smile and another to the driver that opened the door of the town car in which her siblings awaited her. As she got comfy and settled, the driver began to take them to their next destination.

“So what did you get?” Francois asked, lighting up a pipe filled with weed.

Amira pulled the drugs from her clutch and handed them to Jonathan, who inspected the packaging carefully.

“Coke and heroin? What the fuck did you do to get him to give you both?”

“He offered it for an extra 50 bucks and wanted me to try a speedball.”

Francois sat up, “What is a damn speedball?”

“It’s when you inject coke and heroin together. Very dangerous since they do the opposite shit to the body, but the high is said to be unreal.”

Jonathan shook his head after hearing her explain it, “Well, either way, he put what's gotta be his burner number on here so I think that part is for you, short stack.”

Amira pulled out her phone and put the number into it, saving it while reading some texts she missed while at the party. During this time they ended up back at the dorms as the car came to a stop. Jonathan sat back and slipped the drugs into his pocket before speaking again.

“Okay, so we’re gonna take these to the lab for some testing to see how pure it really is. We’ll get back to you in like a day or two with the results, you just see what other info you can get from Joey in the meantime.”

Amira nodded, “For sure, I’ll keep y’all updated if I learn anything. I’m sure he’ll be happy to get a call from me, given that he was imagining what was under my dress the whole night.”

“Of course he did, I made the dress.” Francois snorted.

After exchanging a bit more information and some goodnights, the three Lectors parted ways. Amira got out of the car and walked into her building, a smile spreading across her face as she spotted a familiar figure waiting for her in the lobby.

“I see you got my text,” she said.

“Of course, and looking at you now I’m so glad that I did. You look good enough to eat, Mira.”

Xavier walked up to her and looped an arm around her waist, pulling her close and pressing his lips to hers in a slow kiss. Amira slipped her arms over his shoulders and returned the kiss eagerly, pressing herself even tighter against him. When they finally broke the kiss she giggled seeing traces of her lipstick on his lips.

“You look pretty edible yourself, but I’m kinda tired tonight. Let’s go up to my dorm and just chill tonight?”

“I’d love that, mon petit. Want me to order some food from Night Owls while you change?”

Amira grinned, “You know me too well. Make sure you order some drinks too.”

“I know you well enough to know not to order food without drinks. Now let’s go so you can change before I try to wake your fine ass up.”

She snorted out a laugh before turning to lead him towards the elevator, looking forward to spending some time with the towering demon.

[p-artsypants]

Arcadia or Bust (15) Area 49-B

(Ao3) (FF.net)

Well...it’s been a minute (over a year). How y’all doin? 

So, I finally got down to watching Wizards and it was just as amazing as I thought it would be! And I got to see my boy!!! My Jim!! And Claire!! Ahhh!!!

For the purpose of this fanfic, I won’t be changing the background I gave Morgana. In this story, the events of Wizards never happened. Nor the events of the end of 3 Below. I already wrote the start of the new school year, jumping passed the timeline of both of those seasons. Though, I might be cherry picking information from both (like Douxie and how much Toby and Eli know about Krel and Aja.)

I hope that makes sense, and thank you! 

I’m dedicating this chapter to @nattikay, because she said she wanted some positive Troll Jim content, and I wanted to get this to you sooner for it!

--

Previously on Arcadia or Bust:

Jim, Claire, Blinky, and Merlin came back to Arcadia, only to find that James Lake Sr. had turned up. Merlin gained favor with the party by turning the man into a pig temporarily. Jim went back to school in a glamour mask, only to be exposed as a troll by Steve, who punched him in the face. Now that everyone knows what he looks like and who he is, Jim continues school as a Troll. He’s been recruited for the football team too. 

Everything would have been great...except James Lake Sr. left a bag of cocaine on top of a trash can, as a drop zone, only for Jim to find it and go on a drug fueled rage across town. Now unconscious, Jim must face the consequences... 

—

When Jim awoke, he was bouncing slightly in the back of a van. Not an ambulance, a van. He groaned to wakefulness. 

“Oh, you’re finally awake.” Spoke a voice. 

Peeling his dry eyes open, he looked around the plain, armored vehicle to find himself surrounded by men in uniform with thick helmets and guns. 

He wanted to ask what was going on, only he was muzzled, and strapped to some kind of plank. If he tried really hard, he could probably break free, but he was still exhausted. 

And he wasn’t sure how trolls fared against gunshots. 

“You’re being escorted to a secure facility where you can’t hurt anyone ever again, you disgusting beast.” 

Oh, that wasn’t good. He’d hurt someone? 

So that dream was real? 

Where was he? Where was mom? Claire? Toby? Did they know where he was? 

“...mmm...” 

“I’ll unlock your muzzle for one minute. Make it quick.” 

A switch clicked and Jim felt his jaw relax ever so slightly. Just enough to talk. 

“Does my mom know where I am? What happened?” 

“Do you think we care about some mother of a beast?” 

Jim swallowed, feeling heat rising to his cheeks from anger and embarrassment. “Dr. Barbara Lake. At the Arcadia Oaks hospital. Please...she’ll worry about me.” 

Someone else spoke. “She was there when we took you. You were unconscious. She knows.” 

Well. She knew. She’d tell Claire, and Toby, and Blinky...but now what? Behave? 

Was he under arrest then? Was he going to have a trial? 

What the hell happened??

—

24 hours previously. 

They did everything they could. Now it was just up to Jim to pull through. His heart rate was down, and his stomach had been pumped of the excess cocaine he hadn’t already thrown up. 

Barbara was on the clock, so she couldn’t just sit and wait. Though, that might have been a blessing. It was agony just waiting. Watching his chest rise and fall with great effort. 

It was supposed to be a tense, quiet waiting game. 

But that all changed with the soldiers that stormed in in full riot gear. 

“Hands in the air!” 

Several men entered the room, and immediately secured Claire, Toby, and Strickler. 

“What’s going on?!” Demanded Claire. 

An African American woman, only in uniform and not full gear, strolled into the room, head held high. 

She stopped right at the end of Jim’s bed, raking her eyes over his prone form. “So this is the menace. I didn’t think they hospitalized beasts.” 

Barbara stormed into the room. “What are you doing?! Who are you?! Get away from my son!” 

The woman just turned and held her gaze. “Colonel Kublitz. I’ll be taking your patient into my custody.” 

“No!” Barbara argued, shouldering passed her. “We’ve been talking to the police! This is all a big misunderstanding! Jim was poisoned! And he can’t be moved! He’s unstable!”

The woman was not dissuaded. “Amazing that you’d be so protective of something that tore up your town, terrorized your neighbors, virtually held your city hostage. Why would you try to save that?” 

Barbara snarled at her. “He’s my son!” 

“I suppose he gets the blue skin and horns from his father? I know a troll when I see one. Last time, I missed them all. I’m not missing this one. He’s coming with me.” 

“And I’m telling you, I will not discharge him!” 

“I don’t need you to.” She snapped her fingers. “Bring in the board.” 

“You don’t have the authority!” 

“You’ll find that I do.” 

“You can’t take him! He’s not a monster!” Claire shouted. 

“This doesn’t concern you, little girl.” 

“It actually does! That’s my boyfriend! And I’m not going to let you take him!” 

The woman shook her head. “Please people, I can only be so disgusted.” She nodded to the men standing by Claire, Toby, and Walter. “Escort them out.” 

“You can’t do this!” Toby shouted as he was shoved forward. 

Out in the hall, they watched in horror as the soldiers wheeled in what looked like a dolly with a flat metal back, with thick straps that wrapped around. 

Barbara was pushed out of the room a moment later. 

“You can’t do this! Stop! Stop! You’ll kill him!” 

“All the better.” Said Colonel Kublitz. “Then we can stop having these apocalypses.”

“Jim stopped Gunmar! He’s a hero!” Claire cried, tears streaming down her cheeks. “He’s our protector!” 

The Colonel ignored them, and put her focus back on the room. 

A few moments later, Jim was wheeled out, strapped down by the arms, legs, pelvis, chest, and neck. A horrible muzzle, like the kind Hannibal Lector was forced to wear, covered his face. 

“No!!” Claire shrieked. “You’re killing him! Let him go! Let him go!” 

But the Colonel had enough talking and directed her men, and Jim, out. 

“We can’t let them leave!” Cried Toby, “we have to help him!”

“There’s nothing we can do right now,” said Walter. “They have guns and authority. We’ll find a way to help Jim. Somehow.” 

“Do you think my mom could do anything?” Asked Claire. 

“Local government rarely has anything to do with the federal, let alone the army. But it’s worth a try.” 

“I’ll call Ophelia.” Said Barbara. 

“No, Mrs. Lake,” interrupted Claire. “I’ll handle it. You’re still on the clock.” 

Barbara sighed, and brushed her hair back. “I suppose I am. Thank you, Claire.”

—

The next day at school, the student body was slightly shaken. Rumors had spread, and evidence of Jim’s rage still remained, like the doors ripped off the hinges. 

Most students gave Toby and Claire a wide berth. 

Darci came running the second she spotted them. “So what happened? Where’s Jim? Dad said they weren’t going to arrest him. Is he still in the hospital?” 

Claire frowned hard, lines pulling at the corners of her lips. “They took him. Some soldiers from the army or CIA or FBI. I don’t know. They muzzled him and...” she started crying. 

Darci and Toby were there to comfort her immediately. 

“I don’t know where they took him! I don’t even know where to start! It’s like...Area 51 stuff. I might—we might never see him again!” 

“Excuse me?” A voice cut in. “I’m very sorry, but I couldn’t help but hearing your distressed cries. You said the Troll Jim has been taken to a secret government facility?” 

Claire looked up to the newcomers, sibling students she had shared plenty of classes with, but she blanked on the names. “I’m sorry, what’s your name again?” 

“My name is Krel.” Said the boy. 

“And I’m Aja,” the girl answered. “It’s okay, in all the end of the world craziness, my name slipped your mind. It happens! But, anyways, if I’m correct, I believe Jim may have been taken to Area 49-B. My brother and I have experience breaking in. Of course, we’ll need a different plan from last time...” 

“Wait wait wait...you know where Jim is?” 

“Most likely,” Krel corrected. “It’s the closest government facility that specializes in the paranormal and extraterrestrial.” 

“And...you and your sister have broken out of it?” 

“Into it...and then back out.” 

“Why?” 

Krel scratched the back of his head. “We Uh...needed something.” 

Toby patted Claire’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, Claire, they’re cool. They’ve got secret underground knowledge, like Jim. You know?” 

Claire, quick as she was, made a little nod of understanding. 

These two siblings weren’t what they seemed. 

“The lightning in a bottle!” Claire snapped her fingers. “I’m sorry, I totally forgot about that.” 

“Like I said, end of the world stuff.” Aja shrugged. “We had our own problems to take care of.” 

“Of course, we still do,” shrugged Krel. “But we understand the importance of helping friends when we can.” 

“Well, I appreciate it. And I’m sure Jim will too. Why don’t you guys come with us after school? My mom works in local government and she said she was coming up with a plan. We could use someone with insider knowledge.” 

“Lively!” 

“How dangerous is this place?” Asked Darci. “What kind of stuff are they going to do to Jim?” 

“If he’s lucky, they’ll cage him and observe him.” Said Aja. 

“But, they did try to dissect me, so that’s on the table too.” 

“Oh Jim...” Claire got misty-eyed again. 

“Now, now, no reason to cry!” Krel interrupted. “Area 49-B is mostly about extraterrestrial research. Jim might just be held there...for safety. Yes, for safety. That’s what we can hope for.” 

The way he said it didn’t instill Claire with confidence.

—

Jim remained in and out of consciousness for several hours, fighting nausea, and confusion. When he was conscious, it was all a blur of technology and bright lights. Needles poked at his skin, and he felt the coldness of metal under him.

Several hours later, when he was coherent, he awoke to find himself strapped to a table, naked, and surrounded by several specimens floating in jars and canisters. Slowly, he became aware of the researchers around the room, in yellow hazmat suits. They looked foreign and alien. All of this was drowned out by the bright light shining down on him from above. 

It was like a strange nightmare. 

“Jim Lake Jr.” Said a woman’s voice. 

“That’s me.” He croaked. 

“Who’s Jim Lake Sr.? Another monster?” 

Jim scoffed. “In a way, but he’s entirely human, if you were wondering.” He flexed his cold hands, willing circulation back into them. “What happened?”

“According to our reports, you decided it was perfectly acceptable to ingest a kilogram of cocaine, and go on a rampage through your town.”

Jim’s throat felt dry, and his nausea came back in full force. “I did what?”

The woman held up a tablet, and showed him a video. It was a compilation of security footage from around the city. In each one, his rampaging form tore through the area, upheaving cars, sidewalks, and light posts. Anything in his way. Then towards the end, he saw himself carrying Claire over his shoulder roughly. She screamed out in pain. 

“I…I didn’t…that’s not me.”

“It is you.” The woman snarled. “You hurt all those people, terrorized a whole city. And they tried to protect you, acting like you were one of them. But you’re not. You’re a beast. And that’s all you’ll ever be. No matter what you think.” 

Jim stared at the tablet as the footage started over. It was him, but it…wasn’t. This Jim was erratic, chaotic, and cruel. It made sense why this woman and her team would believe he was a beast if this is what they saw. So now what? He had to convince them that he wasn’t actually that bad? They had video evidence. 

This was all his father’s fault. That had to have been his cocaine on the trash can. 

There had to be a way to convince them that this was a horrible misunderstanding and that he was a victim of circumstance. 

That could take a while.

—

After school, Aja and Krel went with Claire and Toby back to her house to share their knowledge of the government base with Ophelia. 

But what they found there instead was startling, to say the least. 

It was all hands on deck. Blinky, Barbara, Ophelia, Xavier, and even NotEnrique were hard at work making signs and banners. 

“Um, mom?” Claire asked upon entry. 

“Oh Claire! I didn’t even hear you walk in!” 

“What’s going on?”

“We’re campaigning!” Barbara said with gusto. 

“Campaigning?” 

Ophelia held up a sign that said ‘Free Jim Lake Jr.’ on it. “For Jim’s release!”

“What?”

“If there’s one thing the government hates, it’s attention and protests! So we’re going to get the whole town in on it. I have some contacts at the news station too! It’s going to blow up!” 

Claire frowned. “Wait, I thought you went through all that effort to hide the trolls, why would we risk exposing them now?”

“Oh Claire, we’re not exposing the trolls, we’re campaigning the release of a boy that looks different.”

Claire crossed her arms, skeptical, but not in denial. “Go on…” 

“Think about it. Jim’s not a prisoner that’s in jail. There was no trial. No arrest. He was given no rights and kidnapped by the government. This kind of stuff shouldn’t happen in the US.”

“But how do we convince the town that Jim really isn’t a monster? He did do a lot of damage. I know we convinced the city not to press charges as long as Jim helps clean up…but what about all the cars he flipped?”

“That’s where you come in!” 

“Me?!” 

“My apologies, Lady Claire,” Said Blinky. “That would be my doing.” 

“What did you do?”

“I simply explained to your mother that your skills in magic have improved to the point where you were able to restore our truck to a near perfect condition after that accident we had.” 

Ophelia continued. “And I’m going to pretend to not be angry that you didn't tell us you were in a serious car accident on your way back from New Jersey. Blinky said you almost died!” 

“But I didn’t!” Claire held up her hands in defense. “See? All good! Magic and all that…” 

“So, you can restore the cars that were totaled?” Asked her father. 

“Well, maybe…? It might take a little time. Using that much magic is exhausting.” 

Barbara rested a hand on her arm. “Anything you can do to sway the town that Jim isn’t a monster will help. If we have to do a fundraiser to pay for damages, we can do that too. Anything to get the town on our side.” 

“I’m willing to try!” Claire assured. 

“So I guess we’re not needed?” Asked Aja. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” said Ophelia, approaching them. “As you can see, we’re in a state of chaos here. Are you friends of Jim and Claire’s?”

“Naturally!” Said Aja. “I’m Aja, and this is my little brother Krel.” 

“It’s very nice to meet you, I’m councilwoman Nuñez. Please, if you’re willing to help, we’ll certainly take it.” 

“Well,” said Krel. “We were here to offer a different sort of help…” 

Ophelia raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“What my little brother means,” Aja stated, elbowing him out of the way. “We have some information on the government facility that Jim was taken too. Area 49-B. Mostly used for research into the extraterrestrial and paranormal, but I suppose that could extend to Jim and the trolls.” She rubbed her hands together nervously. “We…had to recover some equipment from the facility. Which required breaking and entering…” 

Ophelia leveled a look at them both. “Is any of this so-called equipment dangerous to the city? Do I need to be concerned?”

“No no no!” Krel waved his hands around. “Well, it’s mostly safe. Unless there’s a malfunction. But even then, that’s a small possibility…”

“Krel…” Aja bit. 

“What? I’m just being honest with the woman!” 

“It’s okay guys, you can trust Mrs. Nuñez.” Said Toby. “She knows all about Jim and the Trollmarket.”  

“I mean, next thing you know, you’re going to tell us to trust everyone in Arcadia.” Joked Krel. 

“I’m working my way there.” 

“Fine,” said Aja. “We’re not...from earth. We're in hiding from our home planet. We’ve come to take sanctuary here.” 

“And we need to repair our ship before we can leave.” Added Krel. 

“Aliens.” Said Ophelia, with the blankest expression and tone. 

“Uh, we prefer the term extraterrestrials.” 

Ophelia just sighed. “Trolls. Wizards. Aliens. What’s next? Gnomes?” 

“Oh, there’s been gnomes,” answered Toby.

“Goblins?”

“So many goblins.”

“Okay, so space invaders.” Ophelia threw up her hands. “I guess we’re just that town now, huh? Great. Wonderful.” 

Barbara smoothly took over the situation. “What can you tell us about the facility?”

“Well, for starters, it’s very hard to get into. 10 foot cement walls, blast doors, motion sensor laser guns, the last time we broke in, we had to fake an alien sighting to lure out some guards, stole their uniforms, and snuck in disguised. And we had our AIs monitoring our every move through security cameras and luring personal outside with tacos.” 

“Hmm…sounds dangerous. How did you sneak out?” 

“We…didn’t.” Aja laughed awkwardly. “We kind of busted a giant extraterrestrial arthropod out to cover our escape. We were only lucky that that woman saw us in our real forms and not these human projections. No doubt, she’s hunting for us anyways.” 

“A jailbreak won’t work anyways,” stated Claire. “They took Jim from Arcadia. If we broke him out, he wouldn’t be able to return here, cause they’ll just take him again.” 

“The woman in charge is Colonel Kublitz, and she’s really mean.”

“So I gathered from her visit in the hospital.” Said Barbara with a scowl. 

“Then the campaign is our only hope,” confirmed Ophelia. “If we can’t break him out, and we can’t appeal to the Colonel’s heart, then we put pressure on her superiors to let him out.” 

“But first, we need to get the town on our side. Which means clean up duty.”

—

“Has anyone seen Jim? I need a library card, and I was hoping to borrow his.” This was said by Merlin, who waltzed into the Lake house as soon as they returned from the campaign meeting.

“What?” Asked Claire. “You mean you didn’t hear?”

“If I had heard any news about Jim, do you think I’d be asking?” He put his arms on his hips. “I don’t have one of your cellphones, I’m not ‘in the loop’ as you like to say.” 

Toby answered, “Jim’s been kidnapped by the government and taken to a secret facility to be experimented on!” 

Merlin blinked once, twice, and scratched his chin. “Well, that’s not good.”

“No, it’s really not!” 

“So are you going to help us save him?” Asked Claire. “It’s your magic that got him into this mess in the first place!” 

“Oh, so sorry for trying to make sure your boyfriend stayed alive. I won’t do it again,” he rolled his eyes. “But yes, I’ll help rescue Jim. What is it that you need? Dimension door? A portal to get him out? Or perhaps some fire power down the front door?” 

“No, we need you to help fix the damage Jim did to the town.” 

“You want me to what?! Do I look like a janitor to you?!”

“Come on man, it’s all part of the plan!” Said Toby, “We’re going to get the whole town on our side, and then we’re going to campaign and make a big stink about him being taken! It’ll give them a bunch of unwanted attention, and they’ll have to listen to us!”

“Oh yes, I’m certain that’s exactly what’s going to happen…and not mass execution.” 

“This is the 21st century, the government isn’t going to execute an entire town.” 

“Oh, they don’t do that anymore? Pity. Anyways, I suppose I can help reverse the damage Jim caused…what damage would that be, exactly?”

“James Butthead Sr. left a bag of cocaine out where Jim could find it and he ate it and went into a drug fueled rage, where he flipped over cars and light poles and scared the bejebus out of everyone.” Toby stated. “The police agreed not to arrest him, because of the circumstances, as long as he agrees to clean up the town…but then the army came in and yada yada yada, Bob’s your uncle.” 

“What? When did this happen?” 

“Just yesterday.”

“How did I miss it?”

“You were probably at McDonalds.” 

The man frowned, “I hate that I’ve become predictable. Alright, I’ll get to work doing street repairs first thing in the morning. Until then…does anyone have a library card I could use?”

—

Maybe they’d let him go on good behavior, he wondered. Jim followed every direction to a T, and regarded every scientist or personnel politely. Yes sir, no sir, yes ma’am, no ma’am. Please and thank you. Every ounce of humanity he could muster, he demonstrated. 

In return, he’d been poked and prodded. Blood, urine, sweat, spit and all manner of bodily fluids had been extracted and examined. He had run on a treadmill for hours until he collapsed. He had gone without food and water for the last two days. 

They were treating him like anything but human. 

He was just happy they weren’t using UV lights yet. 

“How are you feeling?” One of the researchers asked. 

“Hungry, tired.” He panted from his table.

“What do you eat?”

“Anything…do you have any socks?” 

“You’ll have to wait a bit longer for food. Until the Colonel gives the okay.” 

“And how much longer will that be?”

“She’ll be here soon, why don’t you ask her yourself?” 

Jim really hated interacting with the Colonel. Most of the personnel were indifferent to him. Some of the researchers actually spoke to him, but most just treated him like he wasn’t even there. The Colonel though, she was cruel. She belittled him, humiliated him, reminded him of the actions that had put him in here. 

She made him feel like an animal, more than anything else after his transformation had. 

“Why is she so much meaner than everyone else on this base?” He asked rhetorically. 

“She’s scared of you.” Said the researcher, not looking at him. “And you’ll never be free as long as she is.” 

Great. Awesome. Just what he wanted to hear. Oh well. He’d just have to up his politeness. Maybe he could convince them to let him cook or something. That could work.

Soon enough, the Colonel arrived, tablet under her arm and a sneer on her lips. “James Lake Jr.”

“That’s me,” he rolled his eyes. He’d been through this every time she’d come to see him. 

“Junior at Arcadia Oaks High School. Nearly perfect GPA up until last year where you got a large stint of absences. Starred in the drama production of Romeo and Juliet. This is you?”

“Yes! I’ve gone to the Arcadia Oaks school district since Kindergarten!” 

“Except Jim Lake Jr. looks like this,” she held up last year’s school photo, with the old him. The human him. The him that didn’t flip cars and trash towns. 

“That was me a few months ago.” 

“This doesn’t look anything like you.” 

“It doesn’t? Not the eyes? Face shape?”

“What I don’t understand is that your DNA samples came back, and they had some commonality to Jim Lake Jr.’s DNA, about half. So, what happened?”

Jim kept a wary eye on her, thinking his answer through. He had been asked something similar by a police chief several states away. Then, the truth hasn’t been too hard to confess, they were far from home and they had treated him like a person. 

A criminal, but a person. And they apologized afterwards. 

But this woman...there was no mercy in her eyes. 

“Well? Are you going to give me answers? Or am I going to have to force them out of you?” 

Would she even believe the truth? 

“Magic.” Jim provided, as a start. 

The Colonel was unimpressed, and growing impatient. 

So he elaborated, carefully, “this amulet,” he gestured to the stone embedded into his chest. “Was created by Merlin the wizard of Arthurian legend. It chose me to be the protector of man and troll.” 

All of the Colonel’s attention was quickly on the amulet, as she studied it. “Protect from what?” 

“Gunmar, mostly...how much do you know about the tornado in Arcadia?” 

“I know that it wasn’t a natural tornado. I know that your town was upheaved by trolls from deep underground, and that when it all went away, the town shut it down tight. There’s only a few amateur videos of the incident.” 

“That was Gunmar. He led an army of evil trolls that wanted to blot out the sun. It was my job to stop him...but I wasn’t exactly a star athlete...so, Merlin turned me into a half troll.” 

Turning this entire exchange, the Colonel never once looked away from the amulet. “I see...and what happened to Gunmar?”

“I stopped him. I killed him. And killing him destroyed his army. Everything is safe now.” He managed to smile. “Now that you know I’m not all that bad, would you ease up a bit? That last incident was an accident...I didn’t know it was cocaine, I just thought it was trash!” 

“Silence.” 

Jim bit his lip, waiting for the Colonel to make up her mind. 

“I want to study this amulet in more detail.” 

“Well, you can look all you like, but it’s embedded in my chest.” 

“That’s never stopped me before.” She turned to the researcher nearby. “Get me some gloves and some forceps.” 

Immediately, Jim started to squirm and pull at his restraints. Forget politeness, she wasn’t getting anywhere near him with forceps! The restraints groaned as he pulled on them, tearing the welding apart. 

“Sedate him!” The Colonel ordered. 

He tried to resist, he really did, but the mask held over his face made him weak. It didn’t completely put him under, but it did make his head a little foggy and his limbs not cooperate. 

“Just sit still, it’ll all be over soon.” The woman’s voice could have been soothing, if it didn’t hold such malicious intent. 

Jim felt the pull on his chest as the cold metal forceps tried to pry the amulet free. 

Of course, Jim had a stroke of genius. “For the glory of Merlin, Daylight is mine to command!” 

It didn’t release him from his binding, but the armor forced the woman away from him, and added extra support over the amulet’s edges. 

And as an added bonus, he summoned his helmet and visor, which pushed the anesthesia mask away from his face. 

Now to just get free! 

The researchers had all gone from the room when he started to glow, but the Colonel stayed behind, unable to tear her gaze away. 

“Fascinating...” 

Hopped up on adrenaline and rage, Jim gave a final heave to his bindings and broke free. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Said Colonel Kublitz. 

“Leaving, preferably. Look, I told you what you wanted to know, I let you poke and prod me for days without water. But I’m done. I’m going home.” 

“And then what?” She asked. “You think we won’t come after you again? Hell, you think you can break out of here?” 

“I can try.” He rolled his shoulders and summoned daylight. “And maybe if I make a good enough of an impression, you’ll find it not worth it to try to get me back.” 

“Try if you can, but now that I know exactly what that amulet is capable of, I’m not letting you leave with it!” 

Thankfully, Jim had a spectacular response time, and darted out of the way at the first sign of the gun, or laser. Whatever that thing was. 

She fired beam after beam, only for Jim to dance out of the way, swiftly and gracefully. He dove behind other specimens and lab equipment, but the Colonel seemed to have little regard for them. Glass tanks exploded, making the floor slippery and sending glass everywhere. 

Before Jim could even reach the door, the room was already surrounded with armed men, all armed with lasers. 

“Give up, Beast! There’s nowhere to run!” 

“I’m not a beast!” Jim shouted back, with a roar. Looking up, he found a large vent in the ceiling. That very well could be his way out. 

But as he jumped to grab for his hold, a beam connected. Bolts of electricity crashed into him over and over in waves, flowing from his horns to his toes, making him convulse violently and unwillingly. He collapsed on the floor in a writhing mess. 

“Don’t touch him yet, the current is still in his armor.” 

Jim felt it too, passing through his very body like he was made of metal. 

Then it all stopped, and he laid exhausted on the floor. He blamed it on his hunger, his thirst, his restlessness. This was a battle not won. 

“Now then, where were we?” 

The electrocution left him too tired to fight, and just awake enough to feel all the pain. 

“You know, a blast at that voltage would have killed a normal human.” She said. “Guess you can be thankful for that, huh?” 

Jim could only let out a weak groan, before his armor faded away. The hands that grabbed him hurt, even just from the residual shock. He was placed back onto a table, and strapped in again. He had no strength to fight. 

“Alright, let’s try this again.”

They didn’t even sedate him, just tore into the flesh of his chest to remove the amulet. 

“Scalpel isn’t going to work, I need a chisel.” 

He could feel the tool cracking into his chest, one knock at a time, carving away. It hurt, oh it hurt, and he cried out in pain. 

And then it was over, and he felt so hollow inside, so empty. 

The Colonel held up the amulet in the light, bits of him still clinging to it. “There now, that wasn’t too bad was it?” 

Jim was unable to answer, his body trembling in pain and shock. His breaths were erratic and shuttering. 

“Clean this up, and then find out what the secret is. I want that armor for myself!”

[thelastyetfabolousmidwestmadman]

Detective Conan Deconstruction/Plot Twists/Subversion's

Howdy!

I've been thinking a lot because I haven't slept or been made sensible enough to see reality through rational means of comprehension.

For a black and white series of tales such as Gosho Aoyama's DCMKverse I can sure think of a multitude of ways to turn it grey. So many dark, bloody possibilities, such a endless plethora of grief, angst, and schadenfreude, of voided bowels and lost innocence, so many terrifying ideas yet so little time...

Anyway, to summarize the contents of all that verbal diarrhea, my mind has created a vast orchestra of sinister ideas that I can't put them all in one or more stories. Some of them I'll use later, some of them I will not. I guess my main inspiration for this stream of consciousness that shouts madly into the abyss of the World Wide Web, is the idea that some intrepid, curious wanderer may come across my inane rantings and be inspired to write their own atrocities.

Or maybe it will the stoke the wondrous imagination of a writer who is more of a sick fuck then I am, (:

There are five areas that can be twisted into something cruel. They contain the following:

Cases

Heists

Romance

Character Flaws

Black Organization

Get it on!

Case’s

Suspect Gets The Last Laugh- Killer is revealed but manages to poison the victim with Ricin or something more subtle allowing the target to die a couple days later. Simple enough.

More Then One Killer- The killer is caught! However a quick look back at the scene reveals he wasn’t alone and he ain’t spilling the beans.

Hannibal Lector Wannabe- A killer decides to fuck with our beloved Teen Detectives by playing a game of manipulation and horror while he threatens their loved ones into continuing.

Escaping Through Statute Of Limitations- When Our Teen Detectives decide to give their customary breaking speech,

Killer Gets Out Of It, Now After Detectives- The killer proves much too clever and sees through our casts tricks. Maybe he begin’s to notice Conan’s con and swears revenge out of his ego.

Loved Ones Hurt In The Crossfire- They were too quick for Conan’s soccer ball, Heiji’s sword, Kogoro’s Judo, or Division One’s reflexes. The bullets, blades, bludgeons. and Pelvic Thrusts couldn’t be avoided and the innocent were hurt before they could be saved.

It’s Too Much All At Once- When the cast see a suspect state his intention to kill himself, especially in the early episodes, the cast would dare them to do it, thinking it is a bluff. It isn’t.

All For Naught- Going down a dark rabbit hole isn’t worth it, if a killer turns out to have escaped or has been dead for a long time.

Big Troll- There was no murder or kidnapping, they just wanted to humiliate them.

Green Mistake- Not all detectives succeed at once. Sometimes they make mistakes... Okay just here me out here. I sincerely doubt that all those amateur detectives despite their talent have a perfect track record in solving cases or even not getting a innocent person hurt. Just look at Heiji’s, Kogoro’s, and Sera’s early (or in Kogoro’s case many) mistakes. It’s statistically impossible to get it right all the time.

Victim Is Worse- Conan and the gang successfully prevent a client from being murdered. The criminal screams at them, telling them how evil he was, and how this was mistake. When they learn of the clients sick actions, they understand why.

Romance

Waiting For Someone Who Is No Longer There- Lets think about the situation between Shinichi and Ran for a sec. if your like me you come to a unfortunate realization that was also in the OVA “Stranger In 10 Years.” Shinichi may never get back to the way he was. Maybe there is no antidote. What if he disappears in that time? And I don’t mean move on, I mean dies without anyone knowing. Ran now has to deal with both a missing Shinichi and a vanished Conan. Yet, throughout her whole life Ran holds out hope, waiting for them. Waiting for Shinichi to call. She refuses to fall in love with someone else and becomes obsessed with finding them... Until in her old age, she dies.

The Sleeping Sleuth Sleeps Around- Okay just listen to my reasoning here for a sec. I know many of you are probably sharpening their knives in the comments but let’s really think about this for a sec. This is the same Kogoro who smacked the butt of one of the Black Bunnies, and repeatedly motorboats whatever young woman he comes across. I doubt if Eri is okay with that. Plus, alcoholism and nymphomania is not a winning combination. He could easily make a mistake while in his delirium.

Shinichi’s Toxic Jealousy- Once again bear with me on this. I don’t think either Shinichi (or Kogoro for that matter) are evil. They have flaws just like any other person. However, Shinichi can be sort of a dick with it comes to how territorial he is with Ran. Just look at Eisuke. Unlike most of the perverts who are after her, Eisuke is a genuinely nice guy and Shinichi treats him like garbage. That got me thinking... Maybe Shinichi’s claims about wanting Ran to be happy aren’t entirely true. A part of him knows what he’s doing is wrong but a selfish side can’t. What if Shinichi’s jealousy starts to hurt Ran severely? Again it have to be written well so Shinichi doesn’t come off like a unrepentant dick but I think there’s something there.

Character Flaws

Hot Headedness Get You Or Others Killed- This idea concerns Heiji mostly. A rather temperamental fellow isn’t he? Always rushing into danger without thinking or having trouble with guile... Ain’t that a losing combination innit? I wonder how many criminals can take advantage of that eh? How easy it would be to trick Heiji to go into a trap if Kazuha is threatened, how simple it would be to switch a blunted blade with a sharpened one, how effortless it would be to get important information, how utterly painless it would be to manipulate him... Well I’ll leave you lovely sick bastards to come up with more.

Dysfunction Junction- Let’s talk about the Mouri’s. They’re... Not healthy to say the least. With Kogoro’s gambling/drinking/man-whoring problem barely touched upon, as well as his abuse of Conan along with Eri’s absenteeism I can say that’s a huge target for blackmailers, debt collectors, and Count Of Monte Crisco wannabes.

Conan The Gremlin- Y’know for such a seemingly innocent little boy, he sure gets into a lot of trouble don’t he? Murders keep happening around him like a curse, and that animal tranquilizer can’t be healthy for Sonoko and Kogoro... Plus people could find out who he truly is and... Well it would probably be really messy wouldn’t it?

Incompetence From The Police- In all seriousness, let’s think about this for a second. You have a overburdened police dealing with a intense rise in the murder rate, illicit narcotic consumption, and terrorism... But before we can get any further let’s talk about real life Japanese criminal procedure. In Japan you can be held for 21 days in a tiny dark cell without due process or access to a lawyer. Your are also being interrogated with the police officers using abusive tactics such as telling you how ashamed your family would be, something that can’t happen in a culture based on Confucian values. You confess but take it back only to find that you’re basically fucked since Japan has a 99% conviction rate regardless of innocence. If your a drug addict, you are literally considered nonhuman by the public at large and due to the Reaganite standards treatment isn’t a option. If your on death row, you are never told when your going to die and even if innocent is unlikely to get out. Stressed at the rising crime rate, the police refuse to investigate any suspicious death and just like in Osaka (yes this actually happened) will simply not add to the police statistics. If your a police officer what are you to do? Just a few years ago there was so little crime and now your stressed to the bone. You’re largely conservative and full of pride so you won’t admit that you must change tactics. This quick jump to conclusions and borderline incompetence can be seen in so many episodes of Detective Conan that’s it’s a wonder that more people haven’t been wrongfully convicted or got away with it... Or perhaps they have.

Black Organization

Government Corruption- Given how much sway the BO has, it got me thinking. What if everything wrong with the Japanese Government is because the BO IS the government. Something sorta akin to how the Russian Mob are basically government officials. So many possibilities other then the usual blackmail, assassinations, and bombings. Electoral fraud, jury tampering, manufacturing consent, subtle revisions of the law to encroach on democratic rights such as those the Third Way, and Neoconservatives did in the west. So many more subtle yet intriguing ways to go about this! Perhaps the BO serves as a lobbying for other more savory companies that proudly align with them such as legalizing gambling or deregulating protections.

Caught!- The BO discovers Conan’s true identity. Hell follows.

Heists

Heist Bombing- Some madman or maybe the MK organization decides to bomb the Kid Heist. Lots of people die, are traumatized and have to deal with the aftermath. I’ll leave the rest up to you guys.

Crazy Fans- Self explanatory until you really think about it. If Kaito Kid is real in this universe, how toxic is the fandom? How many of them have pedophilic undertones with the beloved Kid Killer? What if a stalker discovers Kaito’s real identity and goes psychotic? Riots could happen! So many possibilities! Doesn’t have to dark like in my sick mind, can be played for laughs.

One last thing, because of how long this took to write, a certain beloved detective’s birthday is here.

So HAPPY BIRTHDAY SHIN-CHAN!!!

[toaspireintodarkness]

I RUINED MY SEARCH HISTORY FOR WRITING. I PROBABLY SOUND LIKE A PSYCHO

I don't really advise ruining your search history as it can be really suspicious, especially if the people who watch your activity do not know what you exact plans are. But... if anyone writes: here are some potential... credits.

Straitjackets are not really used anymore. For you fans of Hannibal Lector, that was dramatized. The true portrayal of a straitjacket would have a higher chance of being seen in a prison. Unless the mental patient supplies the hospital staff with a true reason to put a straitjacket on the patient (such as harm to self or others or unsafe behavior). The most common forms of protecting a patient are holding them until they are safe, padded room, and/or therapy of some sort.

Illegal drugs, and street drugs. I researched these for a specific character of mine. The list includes: alcohol, over-the-counter medication, heroin, cocaine, marijuana, tobacco/nicotine products, bath salts, Ecstasy, Flakka, Krokadil, LSD, and methamphetamines. Each of these have their own symptoms, but a few common side effects are dizziness, hallucinations, and fast heart rate.

Murder. Murder can be performed.. *laughs nervously* in many different ways. For obvious reasons, I'm not going to list them. But rather, explain. The heart is vital for a persons body to function, as well as the brain. Some nerves in our body (as well as an animals) can cause us to become paralyzed, such as our spinal cord. If the neck is snapped, we can die. We can have several, 50, 100, 150, broken/fractured bones in our body and still live, though we may pass out from pain, or gradually die from the pain. Blood bounces on snow/ice on first contact. It has a different density than pure water, but it can be mixed with water and be mixed fully. Blood can be thin or thick, bright red, blue, purple, and dark red at first sight, but it smears out as red unless pus is in it. You can walk on broken bones but it is extremely painful and can impose further damage. For a bladed weapon to work efficiently, it has to be cleaned after every use and sharpened to reduce full blades. There are certain pressure points in a body that can make one pass out.

If writing a fight, use moves that they may have done, such as Karate and more. If there isn't a specific way, simply describe the movements. Don't add unnecessary detail, it makes it seem less realistic.

TRAUMA *claps* I dunno if this one is going to be longer than the murder section, but here we go! So trauma can affect us in many ways, and there are several different types of trauma. Emotional, physical, mental, and psychological trauma are the different types. Emotional and mental trauma can run in the same category because it can affect how a person thinks of themself. It is constantly remembered, as well as the other traumas. Emotional trauma is how certain situations can cause our emotions to act. Mental trauma is an experience of something that never goes away, such as PTSD or GAD. Physical trauma can be a form of physical abuse. Our bodies remember what happen to us, and per say, one was abused and hit with force. We fear that happening again, so some of us may flinch, cry, etc when someone makes the action. Psychological trauma runs along with mental trauma, but it is also involves the more severe cases that is harder to control. When we witness something so terrifying, or if we break, we will always be thinking of that moment. It can make one anxious, paranoid, stressed, and irrational with their actions. Children are more able to suffer from a form of trauma rather than an adult, as it is their first impressions of the world.

If making a cannibal, the human flesh smells horrible when cooked(via WW2 example, the burnt carcasses would create an ungodly smell) Blood has a metallic smell. Muscles are more tender as well as ligaments. Flesh is chewy. Can cause health issues after a while, and also it can place an effect on the mind. Though studies show that it can be assumed, it is very illegal and you will go to prison for it. Kidneys will be messy and juicy, and they will have different tastes like bitter vs. Sweet, salty etc. Healthy is better, since the individualmost likely takescare of themselves. Stomach has acid in it, so you would avoid eating it. The small and large intestines are like really thick long noodles. Probably chewy. Brain may or may not be slimey from blood flow, and it can be considered like fat.

And that's it! Thank God too.. I hope this was somewhat useful to someone out there. YES I AM WRITING A THRILLER NOVEL, and I needed this information. Badly. I used research organizations and case studies as my sources for information.

[rachellevic]

As I sit here, thinking about the end of supernatural, reading all the beautiful tributes and articles, I feel a very great sense of loss. Not because I believe this is the end, the real end, that’s not possible with the Winchesters, but there is something much deeper going on and I can’t quite put it into words, so maybe that’s why I’m writing it down.

Maybe it’s a little bit selfish, maybe I’m just not ready to watch to ‘the end’. Rarely has a show done this to me, and believe me, I have a ‘brand’ of television that I get into. Confession, I only started watching supernatural because someone told me that Kim Manners was a producer on it and I was a huge, I MEAN HUGE, fan of the X-files, and I didn’t feel this way when that show ended. It was also several season in before I started watching supernatural because, truth be told, I very strongly dislike ‘vampires and werewolves’ stories and what media has done to lore and historical context; I’m looking at you Bram Stoker, you started this and opened the door to things like sparkles and Stockholm Syndrome and that’s not okay. But Supernatural had something that I had been missing in TV, in life, and I very quickly became a fan...thank you for fixing vampires and werewolves by the way.

I like endings. I like beginnings. I love the journey to get from beginning to end. Maybe I am feeling something more than a loss of a show, but a loss of a way of life, a path, the road...I don’t know. To be honest Supernatural is one of the last shows that I have tuned in to on the regular, week after week, to watch because the way we watch TV has changed. The way people experience a serial show has changed. I don’t know if Supernatural would have been what it was if it had found a life on a streaming service to begin with. But they didn’t exist, or were just in their infancy when supernatural started. What I will miss the most, I think is the episodes in between. Rarely do you find a show that can start a plot episode one and carry it over many season, reinventing itself, playing off its past and building a future. It has built such a future that regardless of how it end, whether they die or they live, they will always live, they will always live in the stories that we know and the stories that we will tell. Jared and Jensen will go on to do other things, as they had done other things before this, but they will always be Sam and Dean and whenever you see their faces, your first thought will be Sam and Dean. Like Anthony Hopkins will always be Dr. Hannibal Lector (so will Mads Mikkelsen, just saying) and Colin Firth will always be My Mr. Darcy. Misha, though an antagonist to us all, is literally an angel in real life. I said what I said, change my mind.

This thing we call Gish has it’s own life now, and will continue to do great things, but we are deeply bound to our Supernatural roots. Looking back on 15 seasons, the good the bad and the ugly, (*cough* Bugs *cough*), what would the show have been if it were a max of 9 or 12 episodes a season? I mean, honesty, if you are a fan of Lucifer, who has watched it on Fox and now on Netflix, it just isn’t ringing the same. It’s good, but there is something missing and I think what that is, is the passage of time. The episodes in between the big plots, the monsters of the week, and the goofy playful, ‘I killed Hitler’ And ‘Sam hit a dog’ moments. We know a milk run is never just a milk run, that life is big and bold and in your face, even though it seems a little slow right now, and that sometimes, staring a books and computers too long is going to force you out into the world to just look for some trouble. Supernatural has taught me a lot about life and what is out there in the world, the good, the bad, the people, this planet we live on and some of our fundamental flaws as humans. Nothing is ever going to be perfect, but if we work at it, we can touch perfection. It’s the moments and the anticipations, it may also be the glimpses of joy when the world is crashing in around us.

It has been a long time, 15 seasons, 320 plus episodes, and yes it does feel like an end, but not for Supernatural, for the way we watched TV. I like a mini series as much as the next person but I don’t think you can do what supernatural did in a handful of episodes even if you can keep yourself going for as long. I don’t think a community like this will ever happen again in the same capacity because the interactions on episode night wont be the same if they just throw everything up onto a streaming service. We have been so lucky with this show and the cast’s willingness to interact with us as much as they do and recognize the power of the fandom as a force for good. Networks were always just looking for viewership, but seemed to forget that the viewers make or break a show and I feel like Supernatural found a way to take views and unite them, to appreciate the fans and see the power that people can have when hey get behind something. That wasn’t the networks doing, it was the cast, it was the fans, I think that is very obvious. So, maybe this is where my feeling come from, maybe I just don’t see how a show doing as well, doing so much good outside of the show, making money, bringing in viewers, being the longest running show of its kind, could just be cut off when there could have been so much more to be done...Do I blame the network for the fall of TV and that they are grasping at straws for an old way of viewership? Yes, yes I do. I believe that they see the streaming services have been a mighty blow to their structure, that it has made TV so much more accessible and frankly so much less annoying with no commercials, but what I think the streaming services of the world have wrong is the limited number of episode and the anticipation of a new episode week after week. Sure, I hate a hiatus as much as the next person, and when I want to watch 15 season of supernatural all in one shot, I do have the DVDs so F you Netflix for taking it down and putting it back up and taking it down again only to put it back up, I have the collection and I can watch it any time I want! But, where is my live viewing party, the gasps and shock you can literally hear over twitter. The standing and singing Carry On when you know it’s going to play. You don’t get that binge watching a show on Netflix...Supernatural is so much bigger than the money maker it was for the networks.

Truth be told, I’m kind of over TV. I rarely turn the thing on in the off season. I didn’t watch anything new this whole pandemic, but instead went back to the familiar, the comfortable. I marathoned all of the X-files in order from beginning to end with two movies, two event series, and cried over their Kim Manners tribute. (Word to the wise, it may not be the best show to watch in a pandemic with all it’s government conspiracies and alien viruses...but the 90’s fashion in the early seasons, and so many actors who we know and love from supernatural were just babies back then, and yes almost everyone is in it. Baby Crowley, Baby Lucifer, Baby Meg (First Meg not Second Meg...sorry Rachel!)) And when I was finished with The X-files I jumped right back into season one of Supernatural.

Supernatural has kept me coming back every week, and it’s been around for almost half of my life (do we even count the years you can’t remember?). I’m about as old as Sam, I was in university when I started watching supernatural but I’m also an older child and I grew up on my dad’s music, and he had a classic car that I remember but my brother doesn’t and my dad isn’t with us anymore (2012). I found so much to connect with in Supernatural, like I relate to Dean on a level that I can’t even explain; from having a little brother to pie is the superior celebratory dessert - also pie for breakfast is totally okay not because there is fruit in it but because I’m an adult and I’ll do what I want! Go team free will! Does that make me a Dean girl? I don’t think so, because You can’t have one without the other. This whole time, it has been about family, more specifically siblings. Dean isn’t Dean without Sam and Sam isn’t Sam without Dean. But yes I’m a Dean girl for other reasons.

I don’t know, maybe it’s just me, I doubt it, but supernatural hits the family feels, it came into my life at a time of transition, it was there when my dad died, and has been there for 15 years. Thinking back to the ‘where do you see yourself in 10 years’ question, and not being at all where I’d thought I’d be, there has been something very constant in the inconsistencies of the road so far. Remember back in season one when we didn’t even know demons were a thing and now our biggest issue is literally Chuck? What a metaphor for adult life. For dealing with this crazy world and society and all the weird that seems to be oozing out of the pours of humanity. We’ve grown with this show. I’m not going to say grown up, because I sure didn’t get any taller in 15 year, but I did evolve, and maybe in some ways I have also digressed, but we keep pressing forward because no one else is going to save my world but me.

Supernatural reminds me of so many part of my life. I saw so much of the X-Files in there, the show that formed my younger years, and was devastated when Kim Manners passed away. There was a familiarity in Supernatural. The idea of seeing Sam and Dean come back, in event series (like the x-files) gives me hope, because we know that death isn’t really death for the Winchesters, but there will be something very profoundly missing from the world going forward. Maybe it’s the last of the magic, something that I’m holding onto in my adult life from time before, the spark that has managed to light up a really strange time, and I don’t just mean 2020. Maybe its a Millennial thing, I am an elder Millennial, right on the edge of two generations and I’m not even 40 yet. I’ve lived in the 80s, 90s, 2000s, 10s and here were are almost through the first year of the 20s (its going to be a very different kind of roaring 20s but um...very similar. History repeating itself a little too literally at times)

I don’t think the Supernatural Family is going anywhere any time soon, I don’t feel like I’m losing that, but this is an end for us. Maybe it’s the end of one book and the beginning of the next. Maybe it’s now our time to carry the legend of the Winchesters forward. I can only hope that somewhere, somehow we’ll see the world expand, the characters lives on; this isn’t the end of the road, but I guess the road can only go so far. I don’t want it to be over. I feel the loss, the lump in my throat, the tears in my eyes that I am fighting back even though no one is going to see them. It’s all good. All good things come to an end, or do they? Regardless, we’ll always have Tuesdays.

Carry on, everyone. I hope that you’ll be okay. Sorry for the long rambling journal entry that didn’t actually come to any real conclusions...thanks John! (Oh yeah, my dad’s name was John too...)

#supernatural #SPNFamilyForever #theroadsofar #lastdaysofSPN #theend

[zankivich]

The Arrangement: CEO’s Son/Dom!Shawn x Black Sub Reader Chapter 7

a/n: this is like my favorite chapter so far. I feel like I’ve been waiting this whole story to ge tot watch these two interact in this way. I hope it comes across as authentic. I worked really hard on the pacing for this story. You all have been incredibly kind to me lately with feedback for this story and I sincerely hope you keep it coming. It is without a doubt the brightest part of my days recently. Thank you so much for that. K bye. 

WARNINGS: sex without a condom (gotta wrap it before you tap it). mentioned of white supremacy, racism, and micro-aggressions. 

*Shawn’s point of view*

Nothing ever simultaneously works out. It never all gets to be perfect. His life had been a memoir with that exact theme and yet somehow he always let himself forget. Y/n leaves and he somehow has a date with her. A date. Not a hookup. Not some elaborate set up to make her cum. A date. With like conversation and personality. He hadn’t been on a date in years. And sure he knew he was really good at sex, but that didn’t mean shit about being able to actually hold a conversation. She was lightyears above him mentally, and he had no idea how he was going to manage to not fuck it up. But he had a date. She said yes. And that within itself was a win. So of course something in his life was going to have to go to shit. Hold that thought.

Brian makes it back sometime between his gym run and a shower. By the time he gets out, the asshole is sitting on his couch fucking up his kill rate on COD.

“Move over, jerkoff! And switch to two player.” He grunted plopping down on the couch beside him.

“Jeez, bro take it down a couple notches. I am nursing a hangover from the depths of hell over here.”

“Not my fault you can’t ever handle your liquor.”

“Well Melanie seemed to think I handled it just fine.”

“Melanie sounds like she’s still never had an orgasm before.”

Brian punched him in the bicep which only resulted in him returning the favor. Idiot.

“Not all of us sneak our hookups in in the middle of the night.”

He rolled his eyes fingers smashing on the controller.

“I didn’t sneak anyone. It’s my fucking apartment you idiot.”

“Yea, sure, whatever. Did you at least hook up with someone new?”

His fingers stumbled on the joystick, sending his player headfirst into a grenade. Lovely.

“No. No I didn’t.”

Brian looked over at him. “You fucked the same girl again?”

“I don’t think we should be equating Melanie and y/n here. y/n is a woman. A grown ass woman. Trust me, she never lets me forget.” He snorted.

“What is up with you and this chick? You never fuck the same person twice.”

He supposed now was as good a time as any. He actually was going to need shit for brains’ advice.

“I like her okay! I like her. And we hooked up last night but it was...it was different. I didn’t tell her what to do. I didn’t pull out any bells or whistles. I just...We just had sex. And she kissed me like she liked me too. So I asked her on a date.”

“A DATE?! I haven’t seen you go on a date since you were like a child!!”

“No shit, jackass. I’m going to need every fucking ounce of help I can get. And that includes your ass, unfortunately.”

“Stop pretending you don’t love me bitch. Now tell me how you plan to get a thirty year old woman who isn’t on drugs to actually enjoy spending time with your sorry ass.”

What are best friends for?

***

*y/n’s point of view*

y/n: I HAVE A DATE.

y/n: I NEED YOU HERE ASAP

Tiana: Oh shit. K. omw.

The last time you went on a date was in 2016, what some might call the beginning of Armageddon. After a slew of horrid dates, you had been completely and totally ready to throw in the towel. But then this cute guy came out of nowhere. He was nice, sweet, not very funny but in a way that made you laugh. He was also persistent enough to not take no for an answer, without it making you uncomfortable. No immediate red flags. So you went on the damn date. And all was well. It wasn’t an earth shattering date, but you weren’t not enjoying his company. And then it happened.

I just really think Trump will genuinely make America great again ya know?

You nearly choked on a piece of lettuce.

“Really bruh? In front of my salad?”

“No just hear me out though. Is he unorthodox, sure. But Hillary? Hillary and those emails. It just wouldn’t have worked.”

“I absolutely understand what you mean.”

“You do?” He smiled.

“Yep. CHECK PLEASE!”

“Bitch we do not have time for you to disassociate I am trying to make a wing here!” Tiana huffed.

You rolled your eyes and reached for your phone working to still your features so that Tianna could continue with your makeup.

y/n: Are you a republican?

Shawn: Well thank you for asking, I’ve had a lovely day. How was yours?

y/n: I’m serious.

Shawn: I’m Canadian.

“Shit. I’m so stupid.” You whined.

Tiana tugged at your chin. “Not stupid. But NOT still.”

“Sorry, ti.”

y/n: Would you have voted for Trump if you could have?

Shawn: No. No I wouldn’t have. What kind of a person do you think I am?

y/n: Idk. idk. I just needed to be sure. It never came up when you were tying my arms behind my back.

Shawn: You didn’t mention political discourse as one of your kinks. Is there something I should know before tonight?

y/n: No. It’s fine. I swear. Just haven’t been on a date in a really long time. And my last one didn’t go so well.

Shawn: It’s been a long time for me too. But I’d really like to have a go at it, if that’s okay with you?

y/n: yea, I’d like that. Should I meet you at your place still?

Shawn: Actually I’m gonna pick you up. I’ll be at your place at 7?

y/n: Oh. Okay.

“Hmmm.”

“Hmmm what? What’d he say?” Tiana asked.

“I’m not meeting at his place anymore. He’s picking me up.”

“Well where is he taking you?”

“If I knew that, Ti would I be sitting here in a ball of anxiety?!”

Tianna dropped her eyeliner brush and reach instead for the body lava. All hail Rihana.

“I sure hope he dicks you unconscious for a few hours. You have got to relax, sis.” She giggled. “It’s going to be alright, okay? He likes you. You like him. Let that be enough for right now.”

“Okay. Okay. Just...make my titties sparkle? Please?”

“Lord, chile. You don’t pay me enough.” She snorted.

Friendship!

***

Shawn: I’m here. Do you want me to come up?

y/n: No need! Here I come.

Outside your apartment building is one of those SUV hummer situations that you only ever rode in when you were visiting one of your artists on tour. Shawn is standing outside the door of the vehicle, and you can’t help but pause right there in the middle of the sidewalk. He traded the black jeans for a black slack that hones in on the fact that he’s most definitely not wearing a chelsea boot for the first time ever. They’re dress shoes. Like proper, wing tips. And he’s wearing a short sleeve button up with yellow, black, and white stripes. There are enough buttons undone to see the way that his rosary necklace melted into the firmness of his chest nestled amongst the most sinful amount of chest hair. God, where the hell had they made this one at? And how the hell did he wind up at my front door?

“Hi.” He smiled, legs crossed and chest broad. “You look really beautiful.”

You peered down at the jumpsuit you’d picked out with Tiana’s help. It was a really pretty shimmery gold color and the entire back was cut out too. In hindsight, it didn’t seem nearly as impressive as to what he was wearing now.

“Thank you. You look pretty beautiful yourself. Really showed me up tonight.”

He laughed. “Yea, sure. Come on, it’s cold out. Let’s get going.”

In the car, there’s a bottle of champagne and one of the playlists that you recognized from Shawn’s apartment is playing softly in the background. He pours each of you a glass, your legs somehow knotting simply together on the floor of the car. It’s weird in that it’s not like a first date  in the traditional sense. You put his balls in your mouth for one. He licked orgasms out of you like ice cream. But the nerves are still there. You find that you care about what he thinks of you, of how he feels about you. That’s new. And scary.

“So uh...where are we going?” You asked between sips of champagne.

He bites his lip and looks nervously over at you. It’s a new look for him. But one that you find solace in.

“Would you be angry at me if I said it was a surprise?”

You raised an eyebrow. “No. But I would be curious as to what that surprise is.”

“Don’t worry. You’ll know soon enough.”

“I think I heard that line one time. I think Hannibal Lector said it.”

He rolled his eyes and threw his head back and you wished it didn’t make you giggle, but it does.

“Funny.” He smirked hiding behind his glass. “I just wanna impress you a little bit. Is that okay?”

“You wanna impress lil ole me huh?” You smiled. “That’s sweet.”

“Just a little.”

He licked his bottom lip and his hand inched its way up your knee. He was warm. Way too warm to not have your body react a little. Rude.

“Whatever happened to your friend from the other morning? Am I taking you away from him?”

“Oh Brian?” He snickered. “He’s just happy he’s got my place to himself. He couldn’t believe I was going on a date at all.”

“Tiana either.” You snorted.

“Yea? She try and convince you not to go out with me?”

“She is...surprisingly Pro-you for some reason. Must have something to do with me not having enough time to be a bitch as work with our arrangement and everything.”

“Hmmm. Well it’s nice to know I’ve got one person on my team. Maybe by the end of the night I can win you over too.”

“Maybe.” You smiled.

The car eventually rolls to a stop, and you’re not even aware of how long you’ve been talking. All the nerves that you couldn’t actually be together without the sex part sort of faded away. He could make you laugh. He could hold your attention. And you could offer him the same. Just when you were starting to think that it was all going to be fine? Shawn came to open your door.

Your heels touched gently to the ground and you let him pull you from the car. Behind him was not a restaurant. Not a bar. Not even a fucking hotel. Nope. Instead you were stood right in front of Mendes Industries’ private jet and a fucking flight attendant with a bag in her hands that looks surprisngly like your Louis Vitton. Fucking Tiana.

“What the hell. Shawn, what the hell?!” You gasped. “What is this?”

“You were concerned about people seeing us right? Well no one’s gonna see us. No one but the locals.”

“The locals?! I can’t--I can’t just fly away with you Shawn. I have responsibilities. I have a--a job.”

He reached for your hands, which tended to do a lot of movement when you were flustered, and stilled them by placing them on his shoulders.

“Listen to me,” He murmured silencing you. “It’s already set. Tiana canceled all of your meetings for three days. It’s just three days. Look I...I really like you, okay? More so than I know what to do with right now. And I think that you like me too. Do you like me?”

“Y--Yea! Yea, of course I do. That’s not really the point is it?”

“It is. Just get on the plane. Please? I just wanna take you out. Let me take you out.”

You peered up at him, all soft brown eyes and chiseled everything else. He had really come along out of nowhere. It was incredibly disorientating, and intoxicating. You lived your life by a planner, a set time for every hour by the hour. And here he was asking you to throw that all away, to let yourself be something else for a chance. And it wasn’t all that different from what he asked of you in the bedroom. Just let go. Release.

You sighed. “You know when most guys ask to take a girl out? They don’t mean out of the state.”

“I’m not like other guys.” He shrugged.

“No shit. Where are you taking me, white boy?” You groaned letting him steer you towards the plane.

“Try to contain your excitement.” He snorted. “Remember that time we had sex in the back of a storage room during Khalid’s video shoot?”

You smiled awkwardly at the flight attendant and knocked your arm into his shoulder.

“Oh please. We’ve had this jet since I was fifteen. I’m almost positive my dad has done some incredibly sketchy shit on here. Martha knows all. Thank you Martha!”

He leads you to a seat. There’s more champagne. You don’t know how you got here. This man was wild.

“Get to the point, maybe?”

“Right. We hooked up in the storage closet, and you told me that story about how you missed your high school trip to Rome because your mom was having heart problems and couldn’t afford it with the medical bills? You had a Lizzie Mcguire fantasy and everything.”

“I was drunk that night. Khalid had just gotten his first number one.”

“So you don’t want me to take you to Rome?” He asked.

“ROME?!”

“Rome.”

“....Who are you?!”

He chuckled. “I’m just a guy standing here asking a girl to let me take her on a little trip.”

“Oh my god. He quotes romcoms. This is too much.”

“Just relax sweetheart. We’re about to do liftoff.”

Jesus Christ.

***

*Shawn’s point of view*

He’s a little worried that he may have broken her. Maybe it was too much too fast. He should’ve just taken her to fucking dinner like a normal person. The problem was he wasn’t normal. And she sure as hell wasn’t normal either. She was so different from anyone he’d ever been with before. He wanted to spend time with her. And the last thing in the world he wanted was her to think about his dad while she was with him. He could tell that it bothered her more than she was willing to admit, and he just needed them to be on equal footing. What said equal footing like going to a country where neither of them spoke the language. Tiana had given him the green light when she agreed to change y/n’s schedule around and even pack her a bag. It seemed like maybe it might go well.

She calms down after her first glass of champagne, and sits more comfortably into the seat next to him, her legs folded so that her knees poked gently at his thigh. She was closer, close enough for him to smell her perfume and he kind of loved it.

“So are first dates the one’s where we spill all of our dirty laundry, or is that the second one?” She asked.

He chuckled and laid his hand on her thigh. She smiles at him, so he doesn’t pull away.

“Your guess is as good as mine. Do your worst, woman.”

She situates herself a little more gently into the chair, chin propped up on her palm. He gets lost in the glitter on her collarbones and neck.

“Why haven’t you been on a date in a long time?” She asked.

Heavy first question. But he told her to do her worst.

“Well I uh...the last date I went on was with my girlfriend of about two years. And on said date she told me that she had been sleeping with a producer at Atlantic records for six months, and that he was going to share her demo. So, she didn’t need me anymore.” He shrugged around a sip of champagne.

“Two years? Two fucking years before she pulled that shit? That’s fucked.” She said. “I’m sorry.”

“Yea. It was really heavy at the time. Blamed my dad for a lot of it, even if it probably wasn’t his fault this time. But ever since then I just thought it might be easier to stick to the meaningless sex route.”

She nodded. “I fuck that up for you a little bit?”

“You have no idea.” He grinned rubbing his thumb along her chin. “I should’ve known the second I caught you checking me out at that party.”

“Excuse me? For the last time I was not ‘checking you out’. I was simply observing that snooze fest your father put on.”

“I was checking you out.” He admitted honestly. “I asked my dad to introduce us. I just knew I had to have you. And then I spoke to you and I found out you were trouble, and you weren’t going to take any of my shit. I should’ve known then.”

It’s a lot softer than anything he’s ever admitted before, and every time that he remembers that this is more, that they’re trying to become more, it makes his heart stutter in his chest. But she leans her head against his seat and she smiles at him like it means something to her to be open, to be vulnerable. And that alone is enough to get him to lean in.

“So maybe....maybe I was looking in your direction.” She says softly. “I’d heard of you. I’d just never actually seen you in person before. And maybe I was curious.”

“Curious?!” He laughed. “Okay. Curious. We can call it that; I’ll take it. Your turn. Worst date. Spill.”

She groaned softly and slid a little deeper into her seat, head fitting perfectly against his shoulder.

“I accidentally went to dinner with a Trump supporter.”

“Accidently?” He snorted.

“Don’t laugh asshole! It was thoroughly traumatic for me. I just thought that logically a white supremacist would not be interested in asking me, a black woman, on a date. I forgot that logic is not in their wheelhouse. It was awful.”

“Now your texts make a lot more sense.” He chuckled reaching his arm to pat her cheek. “That enough to take you out the game, aye?”

“I don’t know man...the world is fucking scary right now.” She sighed. “Sometimes it feels like there’s no one we can trust, like there’s no one who doesn’t have it out for us. It’s not just political agendas. It’s my safety. It really is that deep. It has to be.”

It’s this moment where she’s offering more of herself than she had in the entire time that he’d known her. Y/n was beautiful and sexy and intelligent, but there was also always this aura of mystery around her. Like she wasn’t quite ready to share herself, didn’t know if she could. And he wanted to find his way on the other side of that. He wanted to know her better than she knew herself. And he wants to cherish any moment where she’s willing to let him try that.

“I understand.” He paused and closed his eyes feeling maybe a little flustered and out of his element. “I mean I don’t. I know that I don’t, that I couldn’t but..I hear what you’re saying. And I believe you. I would like to know more at some point. If you’re willing to share it with me.”

Her eyes flicker over to his and they’re wide and brilliant and he wants to kiss her so bad.

“You do?” She checked.

He nodded and chanced reaching to pull her face a little closer, palm resting against her cheek.

“I do.”

She kisses him and it feels like the sun. It feels like everything.

***

*y/n’s point of view*

Rome  is kind of perfect. It’s not so hot that you’ve got to cover yourself in deodorant, but the sun is still pretty and bold in the sky. The hotel he takes you to has an entire terrace open for your access with those flowy ass curtains you only saw in cheesy 80’s pop music videos. There are couches that might as well be beds there so soft and plush. You touch down in the middle of the night and there’s not much to do but keep talking to each other, keep touching each other. You take your shoes off and sit out on the couches wrapped in blankets with another bottle of champagne. If the redness in his cheeks is anything to go off of, he’s just as tipsy as you, and it means that it’s not weird when you lean into him. No one’s gonna say anything for letting him hold you.

“It’s four am right now.” You giggled hiding your face in his neck. “It’s so beautiful here.”

“Do you like it?”

“Yea. I really do. I always wanted to come here. I can’t believe this is our first date.”

“I wanted it to be special for you. You deserve that.”

“Since when?” You asked so thoroughly confused by everything that he was. “I mean, yes. I definitely deserve this but...when you did you realize that you want it to be more than what we were? I thought you just wanted to fool around?”

“I did.” He whined stubbornly tracing your nose with his thumb. “I really did. But...you are very good at sex.” You laughed and he smiled. “I’m serious! One of the best partners I’ve ever had. And sometimes when our bodies were moving I just got lost in you. Like you were a fucking beautiful ass star capturing me with your light. And then you stopped arguing with me so much and just letting me be like...a friend to you?  And then Miami happened and I just--I wanted to be with you. And I realized that I wanted to be with you as a person, even when we weren’t having sex. I was scared. Until I realized that you liked me too. Then I got my confidence back.”

“Oh lord not your confidence.” You rolled your eyes.

“You have got to stop acting like you are not all up on this okay? I see the way you stare at me, honey. It’s okay. Let yourself give in to Mendes Magic!”

“I am officially not attracted to you anymore.” You snorted going to pull away.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and tackled you down to the couch. Your laughter poured out into the night as his fingers dug into your belly. You laugh until your stomach aches. Until there’s tears in your eyes. Until he kisses you and you feel it in your toes. Until the only thing you can think about, feel, smell, is him. And you melt like that against the couch.

***

Rome is beautiful. It’s the most beautiful place you’ve ever been. The sun rises in the sky and you’re up immediately tugging Shawn out of bed. There’s breakfast at this little place near the hotel that looks out over buildings that were unlike anything you’d ever thing. Everything was historic and rustic and so endlessly different from everything you’d seen before. It was really like something straight out of a movie with cobblestone walkways and buildings that were works of art themselves. It’s wild. It would be wild on any day of the week. That was before you looked over your glass of wine to this guy smiling at you like the beauty of the city around him meant nothing in comparison to looking at you.

You liked him. Shit you liked him a lot. And every time he looked you in the eye and hung on every word you said? It just blew you even further away. And you kept trying to remind yourself how unrealistic it all was. You were thirty afterall. The two of you were in different times in your life. He was still holding on to every word his dad said. You had plans for your life, for your career. It was hard to figure out whether or not he could fit into those plans. And maybe that wasn’t first date type of thinking, but hello! He took your ass to Rome. None of it was normal. So you walked a little faster, tried to hold harder to the moments that you had to share. Cause why not?

“Hey can we slow down for a sec?” He asked as you pulled him towards your third museum of the day.

You frowned. “I wanna see the ruins.”

“We can. I promise. Just let’s sit down for a second, yea?”

You’d been walking all morning, stopping at every nook and cranny that you came across. It was a three day trip anyway. You had no idea when you’d ever be back, if you ever would be back. But there’s something special about the company too. You remind yourself that he’s the reason you’re there. The vacation, though amazing, was really just an opportunity to be with him.

“Yea, of course.”

He tugged you to a little corner of these big huge steps that were filled with people just sitting down, chatting, eating their lunches. The second you’re no longer standing on your feet is a little bit like heaven.

“Okay make you were right.” You sighed wiggling your toes. “I’m tired.”

“Well that’s good. I was starting to think you were a robot.” He chuckled. “I’m glad I packed tennis shoes.”

You peered down at his feet and quickly laced your legs with his where the white tennis shoes stuck out in contrast to his black jeans.

“They look so funny on you. I like them. You’re cute.”

He smiled over at you. “I’m cute, aye?”

“You heard me.”

“Yea, well maybe I wanna hear you say it again.” He murmured taking your cheek into his hand.

“You’re cute.” You whispered before pressing your lips together.

You had yet to get over this new style of kissing. The way he rubbed so softly at your cheek you got goosebumps. The way his tongue could make you feel like time was slowing down. Almost like there was nothing left here. Nothing but the two of you and the way you could make each other feel. It was maybe the best feeling in the world.

“You’re beautiful.” He murmured when the kiss had ended, forehead pressed against yours. “I can’t believe you’re here with me right now.”

“I can’t believe you whisked me away to a different country for our first date.” She hummed. “What are you hiding? Do you have a third nipple or something? A serial killer perhaps?”

“Why are you so insistent on me killing people?” He laughed. “And you’ve seen all of my body at this point. If there was a third nipple don’t you think you would’ve seen it?”

“Well you’ve got me there. But statistically speaking at least fifty percent of all murders probably fit your description, honey. I’m just being realistic. I’ve seen what you can do with rope.”

He rolled his eyes and he found that it made you smile. And so he tended to do it more and more often.  That’s kinda how you knew you were fucked.

“What do you say we go see these ruins of yours, find some pasta, and fuck until we fall asleep?”

“As long as it’s in that order!” You gasped tugging him back to his feet to continue your wild adventure of the day.

***

*Shawn’s point of view*

He’s got a new kink. And it’s definitely her calling him baby when he’s inside her. It is without a doubt the sexiest thing she could do for him. Which makes so little sense. How fucking soft had she turned him in a few short months? This is where he was now, almost blowing his load because a woman called him baby. It’s not just a woman though. It’s her. Holy fuck it’s her, and the sound of her voice is like directly tied to his dick or something. Shit.

The couches on the terrace are perfect for sex in broad daylight. It’s completely secluded to just them, but anyone at the other hotels around would easily be able to hear them if they opened a window. It’s just another thing that seems to get them both hot and bothered. Her body is a dream. And he doesn’t need to tie her up to get lost in her. (Even if he really, really liked tying her up). All he needs is the feel of her body against his and his hands to direct her where he wants her to go, where he needs her to go for both of them to explode.

“Fuck.Honey you’re dripping. You’re dripping all over my dick.” He groaned tugging her thighs more ruggedly against his own.

“Baby I--I wanna cum.” She gasped, voice breathy and chaotic as her hips bucked like a fucking dream. “I wanna cum on it. Please?”

“It’s yours. Cum on it. Make yourself cum.”

He reached  around her waist to grind his fingers deep into her clit. Her ass began to bounce against him, quick and sharp and rugged. He’s barely holding on by a thread. And then she starts to squeeze down on him, her hips working to bring herself to her own climax, and he’s already done for.

“Fuck! I’m cumming.”

His fingers work harder on her clit, dropping down to his knees to drive desperately into her with everything he’s got left inside of him. It thrusts her over the back of the couch and he plasters himself against her back grinding tightly with everything that he’s got..  When she cums it’s just another accomplishment, another moment of making her feel good. It’s all he’s ever really wanted since they met.

“Holy fucking shit.” She gasped collapsing against his chest. “So good.”

“Yea? Still think I can’t dom you and date you at the same time?”

“Shhhh. No one has time for you sir, I can’t feel my legs.”

He nuzzled his way into her neck placing kisses against the skin. His arms were still wrapped around her and her fingers were playing in his hair. It was different than their usual hook ups, for sure. But, he liked it. He liked feeling close to her. He liked touching her and feeling her heart beat beneath his finger tips. Did she know how amazing she was?

“You want me to go get a towel?” He asked softly, pecking at her ear.

She hummed. “Not yet. Don’t leave yet.”

God he was ruined. Just like that.

“Yea okay.”

***

She hops in the shower and he has every intention of following her, of maybe pressing her into the shower door and fucking her until the glass breaks. But then his phone starts ringing and she giggles and runs off leaving his dick to twitch against his thigh. He was stupid on her. Aboslutely idiotic. And whoever was getting in the way of his idiocy was about to get an ear full.

“There better be someone dying!” He huffed eyes still very much on the shower where perhaps the most beautiful woman alive was waiting for him.

“That can be arranged. Can you explain to me why I had to find out from Tiffany that your half whit ass is in Rome right now instead of New York?” His dad roared.

Remember that whole things falling apart narrative? Surprise.

“Shit. Dad look I..I just needed to get away for awhile okay?”

“On the comapny fucking jet nonetheless?!”

“That jet has been open to family members as long as I’ve been alive. Since when is it even a problem?”

“Since you’ve been on that jet more than you’ve been in my office. I am tired of trying to explain this to you Shawn. The rules are very simple. You work for me, you do a good job, you get your inheritance. If you don't, you know what happens Shawn. Is that what you want, to make me have to do that to you?”

“Look Dad I,” He let his voice drop softer, shyer. “It’s not what it looks like. This isn’t just me fucking off okay? I--I like someone. Like really like them. And I just wanted to impress her. She’s different. And I wanted her to like me. This isn’t one of my hookups, I swear.”

He hadn’t liked someone in so long, hadn’t even come close to what he was feeling for y/n. Even though his dad was a dick and they had fought since the time he was eleven, there was still a part of him that yearned for his approval. It was hard not to get caught up in what the world knew his dad to be. It was hard not to feel like if he could just make him proud, just make him happy, then everything would be okay. He hadn’t been that naive in a long time, but it still pulled at him every now and again.

Manny sighed. “Great, son. That doesn’t help the fact that you went behind my back and are continuously neglecting your duties.”

“I--I’m not though. Niall is sitting at sixteen songs as we speak. You only wanted twelve remember? I convinced the producers to look into doing a deluxe edition. That’s gonna make the label happy, Niall happy, and it’s more money for you right? I’m back in LA in a week to work on the roll out for Sarah Leone to the press. I’m kind of working my ass off here. I’m doing everything you wanted.”

���Look whatever just get your ass back to New York, okay?” He muttered.

“I’ll be back in two days.”

“Shawn.”

“Two days. I’ll be back in two days, and I’ll keep living in this hell of a life you’ve set up for me , alright? See you then.”

He tossed his phone back onto the bed in frustration. The noose tightened a little in his absence, sick and tired of always fighting and always losing. It seemed like no matter what happiness he carved out for himself, he was always going to have to return home. Maybe he was kidding himself. Maybe there was no winning in this life.

He stands there for like forty-five seconds feeling sorry for himself, and just fully like a piece of shit. And then he hears her. It’s soft and gentle and sweet. He moves a little closer to the bathroom, the door still open and her naked body visible through the foggy glass door. She’s singing.

“I’m like a bird, I’ll only fly away.” She cooed softly. “I don’t know where my soul is, I don’t know where my home is.”

Her voice was soulful and low, her fingers cupping her breasts and rolling down over her hips as she sang. It really kind of hit him in his heart. He leaned against the edge of the doorway, head lolling back for support at this gorgeous sound coming out of this gorgeous woman. The music lover in him just wanted to sit on the floor and listen to her all day, it was so pretty. Maybe map out some harmonies for the two of them. And the fact that he could see the smile on her lips as she sang only made his heart feel two times too big for his sturnemum. He wasn’t ready for the way that she could make him feel. He thought he’d known that, thought he was preparing himself. Not so much. He wasn’t sure one could prepare themselves for a woman like y/n. Maybe that was his lesson to learn.

She catches sight of him out of the corner of her eye and her lips glue firmly shut. He practically pouts when she stops singing. His arms crossed against his chest tighten in dissatisfaction.

“What are you doing?” She whined leaning her head out of the shower.

He shrugged. “Was just listenin’. You didn’t tell me you sang.”

“You didn’t ask. And I don’t. I was just...humming.”

“Humming?” He laughed softly. “Okay. Well you hum beautifully.”

“Well thank you, I suppose. Was your phone call okay?”

“No. Not quite but, I’m good now. Can I wash your back for you maybe?”

“Yea. Boy, you ain’t gotta ask to wash my back. Come on!”

He steps back into the steam of the shower and it’s like nothing exists but the two of them. And he just really wants to keep it that way for a little while longer. If only for a little while longer.

***

They’re lying on a hotel bed that’s so soft it feels like they’re sinking. After another glorious round of sex he found himself tangled in the sheets beside her. Their heads at the foot of the bed because that’s the position where he’d made her cum last, and their feet intertwined at the headboard. She’s not looking at him, but instead up at the ceiling. This doesn’t seem to stop him from peering over at her. She’s kind of too beautiful to not look at.

“Can I ask you something?” He hedged carefully.

She peered over at him, eyes warm and sated.

“Yes.”

“I don’t...I really don’t know how to ask, or what to ask. And maybe--maybe I’m gonna come across like some dick, but I don’t wanna do that with you. I want to learn ya know? I want to understand.”

“Shawn?” She pressed getting his attention. “Calm down. Just ask.”

He nodded softly and took a deep breath. His fingers twitched anxiously against his stomach.

“That stuff you said earlier on the plane...you know about--about the trump supporter, and how that made you feel? And then sometimes...sometimes it sounds like you don’t really like white people, which like makes sense right? We’re the worst. But I just...I wanna understand more about...about what that means for you? Fuck. I’m sorry. That sounded dumb just saying it.”

He closes his eyes ready for her to slap him and take his jet all the way back to New York. He thinks maybe he’d deserve it. It wasn’t even that he’d never been with a Black woman before. Black Women were beautiful and ethereal and wonderful. But, even his tiny white man brain could understand that the state of the world was simply a little different nowadays. His mediocre understanding of racism and privilege simply wasn’t enough. And he knew that if he wanted to be with this woman, if he wanted to feel like he deserved to be near her and absorb her intellect, than he should probably do his absolute best to understand the world in which she walked. Because it certainly looked different from his own.

He feels her hand on his chest and his eyes flutter open. She curled her fingers around his own and sent him another gentle smile that made his toes curl at the other end of the bed.

“It’s not dumb.” She assured him. “You’re asking. You might not have the language, but you’re asking. And that means a lot to me, okay? A lot.”

He nodded his head dumbly, eagerly hanging on every word that she said. She lied back once again, her head nestling a little closer to his. She doesn’t let go of his fingers.

“So, I do hate white people sometimes.” She mumbled. “Sometimes in the discourse Black folks will often try to explain that it’s not all white people, it’s just some. And most days I can get there. I can recognize that. But like… that’s not really how it works you know? Even white people who wouldn’t lynch my black ass grew up in a culture that would. Even white folks who might not feel the need to say the n-word grow up in a culture that situates their body, their worth, their value over mine. And even if that’s not your fault, and I can recognize that it isn’t you know? That’s how privilege works, it’s subliminal. But even if it’s not your fault, it doesn’t mean that you don’t benefit. And it definitely doesn’t mean that you haven’t absorbed messages about my inferiority.”

He watches her face the entire time, more specifically the emotions that seem to rush through every pore and every muscle. There’s a bit of agony on her features. A bit of frustration. But as she warms up there’s a freedom to it too. He knows that she’s not editing her words. She’s not doing anything for his benefit. He asked and so she would tell him, in whatever way was meaningful for her.

“White people just...sometimes it really seems like y’all don’t give a shit. I’ve had the cops called on me at the very building that I work at. On the top floor, with some of the most powerful people in show bizz twenty-seven times since I started. To the point where Mike in security has to keep an updated description of me every time I change my hair just in case. I have walked onto sets to manage my artists and been told that the back up dancers are in the trailer around back. Every step I take, every goddamn day, there is always at least one white person there to tell me that I don’t deserve it. That I don’t belong. And the intersections of my blackness with my womanhood mean that I am consistently and constantly facing an uphill battle of two indentities that the world just doesn’t give a fuck about.”

He couldn’t look away from her. Never had he ever seen her be so vulnerable for him. Y/n was always just an inch or two behind a wall, always peeking out to give him glimpses but never really showing herself in her entirety. He watched the way that her chest rose and fell more rapidly, watched the way her fingers tightened around his own, and her eyebrows wrinkled on her forehead. It was anxiety. She was anxious and angry and sad. The way that her lips pointed down and her eyes blinked faster than normal told him as such. It kind of broke his heart.

And it’s all so new for him that the only thing he can do is follow his instincts and hope that either he doesn’t fuck it up, or that maybe she’ll forgive him if he does. So, he rested his head firmer against her and held her hands just as tight like maybe it might root her a little better in this room with him, like maybe she might feel safe with him.

“And the people...the people that do these things to you. That do these racist acts all the time they--they look like me don’t they?”

Her eyes that were trained on the ceiling fell down to meet his again. They’re still sad, but a little softer now.

She nodded slowly a bit of a grin forming on her lips.

“I’ma be honest ain’t nobody walking around looking quite like you but...yes they--they kind of look like you.”

He nodded slowly and tilted his head back to peer up at the ceiling now. There’s an anxiety to it for him too. In asking the questions that he didn’t have answers to, to be vulnerable enough in his ignorance. There’s a desire to get it right because she’s important to him, and then a dread when he realizes the time it will take to get there, and the pain that might cause her along the way.

“Shit y/n...why the hell would you even wanna go out with me? Even I hate me right now.” He sighed.

“That’s just the white guilt talking baby,” She snorted before sobering up quickly. “Look it’s complicated right? Like given my problems with white people and white men in particular, I’m firm enough in my blackness and my identity to recognize everything that I just explained to you, while also recognizing that things are never black and white. No pun intended. I can still love your humanity and your individuality as long as you’re willing to do the same for me. I can recognize that not all white people are the same, that you all think alike. I just need the space to have conversations like this. I need someone who cares enough to learn. Anything else isn't worthy of my time. Either you’re down with me always, even when it isn’t convenient, or you’re not. So, which is it?”

Her eyes are wide and clear. It’s that firmness in the set of her jaw that gets him. She’s dead serious. Either he buys into her, and all of her, or he doesn’t deserve any of her. He can see that. He can understand it. It’s not that he wants her bad enough to “deal” with the rest of it. It’s that he wants her bad enough to understand all of her. He wants to know. Needs to.

“I’m down.” He assured her reaching for her cheek in his palm. “For all of it.”

“You’re sure?” She mumbled with desperate eyes. “Cause if you’re not we can go back New York and just be fuck buddies again. You can still find you some white girl without hundreds of years of internalized genocide and systemic oppression on her shoulders.”

He shook his head and kissed her until the tension melted from her body. Because he needed it to. He needed her belief in him, her trust.

“I’m so damn sure it’s insane. Just want you.” He whispered.

She reached for his lips pulling him back to kiss her again.

“Promise.” She demanded as if it was even an option.

“I promise.”

***

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