#baltimore muse

[ashes-16-al-wallpapers]

[dreamersscape]

Royals lead the Orioles 1-0 in the 7th inning of game 1 of the wild card round!!!

(The game ended hours ago, but I've managed to start and watch this far of the archived game without getting spoiled since I couldn't catch it earlier.)

[actu-alite]

[palmettoshenanigans]

Promised I'd compile an Andreil Fic List from my bookmarks so here y'all go (everything is AO3)! List updated occasionally.

Favorites bolded in orange. Top Five marked with [#]

Short and Sweet/Angst and Read Several Times

"loving you is muscle memory" by Talls (sweet)

"boyfriend privileges" by mostly_maudlin (sweet)

"You Might Get It" by likearecord (light angst)

"Translation Errors" by SensationalSunburst (sweet like candy)

"This Roommates Bullshit" by likearecord (sweet)

"temper, temper" by Ominous (sweet and hilarious)

"Killer Bunny" by godless_writer (lil angst)

"Pumpkin Patch" by H_bee69 (sweet)

"Neil Josten Is a Lucky Man" by irls_goaway (sweet)

"Porcupines and Promises" by StellaLuna365 (sweet)

"Neptune" by kanekicure (sweet angst)

"What Did You Call Me?" by Fortheloveofexy (sweet n a lil hot)

"give or take" by bazookajo94 (sweet and funny)

"It's the Thought that Counts" by gluupor (sweet)

"hold your fire" by seasy33 (angst)

"Oh isn't it a bit of luck…" by Willow_bird (sweet and silly)

"Sweet Enough to Eat" by Fortheloveofexy (sweet angst)

"Bunny" by lady_flash (sweet and funny)

"Space In-Between" by kitausu (sweet)

"just curious" (series of 2) by gay_irl (sweet)

"Kisses on Scars" by rememberednoah (sweet)

"my whole life, too" by eeveepkmnfan (sweet)

"definitely something" by bazookajo94 (sweet n silly)

"in bars, in cars" by moonix (sweet)

"Do Not Disturb" by mostly_maudlin (angst n lil sweet)

Killing Me Softly With Their Love

"Not Nothing" by TheRainbowElectric

Broke My Heart and Left Me There To Rot

"I'll Take Care Of You" by Justthislazy

"Oh love, I'm sorry if I smothered you" by Ateiluj

Broke My Heart, Left Me To Rot, But Came Back With A Blanket and An Apology

"Odd Eye" by tdashshirts [#Honorable Mention - for the autism]

They Find Each Other In Every Universe (AUs)

"fragile" by likearecord (Radio!AU)

"venus as a boy" by kybelles (Highschool!AU)

"Catfish" by likearecord (Catfish!AU)

"cocoa dust" by djhedy (Coffeshop!AU)

"The Calculus of Nocturnes" by fuzzballsheltiepants (Teacher!Andreil)

"Raised on Little Light" by maqicien (Wymack adopted Neil)

"Touch me, love me, leave me" by BakaDoll (Military!Andrew)

"buried" by bazookajo94 (Highschool!AU)

"And We'll Be Running" by allyasavedtheday (Band!AU)

"boy next door" by foodforworms (Neighbors!AU)

"Smokescreen" by bazookajo94 (Muse!AU???) [#4]

"waiting up for better things" by fuzzballsheltiepants (Guitar Player!Andrew)

"skin deep affection" by mitigates (Speed Dating!AU)

"in another life" by bazookajo94 (Accidental Pen Pal!AU)

"Armies" by nekojita (Mafia!AU) [#1]

"If You Love Me, Come Clean" by sundowne (Exchange Student!AU)

"at least we were electrified" by likearecord (Actor!Neil) [#2]

"Ripple Effect" by Watergaw for AgentCoop (Canon Divergence)

"we were together" (series of 3) by bazookajo94 (Canon Divergence)

"Tastes Like Gold" by pandaseek (Translator!Neil)

"The Gaslights Burn Brightly" by This_Witch_Writes (Met in Baltimore!AU)

"wreck my plans" by Willow_bird (College!AU)

"he's a nightmare" by likearecord (camp!AU)

"april showers, april snow storms" by ephemeralsky (soulmate!AU airport edition)

"prophetic" (series of 2) by Ominous (childhood friends!AU)

THEY TAKE CARE OF EACH OTHER YOUR HONOR

"say something" by Willow_bird

"i’m gonna find my ghost that’s lost in outer space" by cyanica

"lost in the process (out at sea)" by cake_lovin_ace

"The Drowning" by minyardlovebot

"I hate you" by All_for_the_andreil

"A Quiet Night" by kccastner

"Overcome" by czenzo

"The grass between us (the mud under our feet)" by unojonex

"Not a Monster, Just a Human" by ms_masago

"Will you love me for who I am, not for who I was?" by something_boring

"There Now, Steady Love" by jingerhead

"side effects may vary" by willadisastercry

"Neil Fights the Foxes" by This_Witch_Writes

"Tell Me Where To Touch You" by Fortheloveofexy

"Beware Becoming My Partner in Madness" by Justthislazy [#5]

THEY FUCK EACH OTHER YOUR HONOR

"louder than bombs (i break)" by mitigates

"Beautiful" by WhenInDoubtSleep

"attitude problems" by greywarenlynch

"hold on" by starwarned

"Need You Now" by NikNak22

THEY TAKE CARE OF EACH OTHER AND FUCK EACH OTHER YOUR HONOR!!!

"Muscle Memory" by elesary

Did Someone Say Fantasy AU????

"Andrew Minyard and the Intricacies of Faerie Wooing" by carminesunset (Fae!AU)

"monster (under my bed)" by scribbleb_red (Demon!Neil)

"Into The Woods" (series of 7) by Ominous (Werewolf!Andrew) [#3]

"anywhere. everywhere." by moonix (Demon!Andrew)

"Auburn Wings and Golden Dreams" by doodlingstuff (Angel! Neil)

THE MOTHERFUCKING GAUNTLET

"Blame It on My Youth" by youreyestheyglow (1 million+ words) [#Honorable Mention - for the culture]

[sweet-chimera]

TW: Call out post, drama

// Damn we were going to keep it quiet and respectful until this point. because like always. Spork, aka Shiloh can't take accountability and Never does anything wrong despite the fact that this is the what? 6th group of people enmass to cut contact with them? Spork we were being quiet about it for YOUR sake. Cause you're a bad person and we wanted to be done with you. But fine. We'll do it your way. We blocked you because you're a toxic person who threatens to harm yourself when we don't comply to you. Not because of a fake wedding rp event. Content and stories under the cut. Long post trigger warning

And because he named dropped us, potentially to potentially insight violence on us. We'll return the favor. We were willing to just soft block and call it a day but then you do this? We knew you were a karen but come on spork. This is low even for you. For those of you that don't know, Spork aka:

patchiesdoodles, decipheringmadness, cxpescxwlsandcrxmes, ifyouwouldloveme, thegreeksknewthescore, fxllen-cne, thxpatriarch, unforgivendivine, AND the-blackened-dove.

Likes to block evade, exhibit controlling tendencies towards their rp partners, leverage marginalization's to groups that he doesn't belong to to white knight and get his way, tone police, sexually harass people mainly on voice call, guilt trip, bully those that speak out against him, use his partners to harass people who block him, vague posts, gives ultimatums, and threaten self harm when he doesn't get his way.

Lets get this out of the way, My experience with spork

I met spork in the muntain june 2023. And it was one of the most grating experience of my life. At every chance they got they spoke over people, talked openly about their sexual trauma when no one has consented to hearing it. And tone policed me, a cambodian/afro indigenous person from baltimore, for using language that was "Offensive to black people." Only to then lay off after yelling at me for a few minutes. When he found out I was black. (Screen shot of me talking to the mod of the muntain afterwards)

I was off put, and upset. That someone who is this complexion

is tone policing me, AN AFRO INDIGENOUS PERSON WHEN I MAKE NO ATTEMPTS TO HIDE IT. IM BLACK.

But seeing as we're a vastly neuro divergent community. I forgave and forgot because it wasn't worth the fight. it didn't stop them from constantly bringing up sexual or traumatic topics. But at the very least. They were upset at me for using AAVE and saying the N word. A SLUR I CAN USE.

But then later down the line. I talked to the muntain mod about introducing my partners to the rp community and to help the transition go smoothly.

I EVEN WENT INTO VOICE CALL AND BEGGED THEM, SPORK SPECIFICALLY. TO BE ON THEIR BEST BEHAVIOUR.

My girlfriend joined on the 30th and my boyfriend joined on the first.

During the first call on the 30th. Spork dominated the conversation and flirted with my girlfriend infront of me upon finding out we were polyamourus. But for the most part was respectful.

On the voice call on the second. They were racist and immflamatory to my boyfriend. Tao. A native mexican man. Spork claims to be indigenous themself but I have no proof of this. But as we all know, Abrahamic religions have decimated the indigenous populations and caused Alot of harm.

On voice call. Spork brings up their LITERAL JESUS CHRIST muse. And talks about their religious trauma. Tao, also talks about his in the form of a joke. "Oh Jesus sure liked to wash feet huh?" A TRUE FACT. NOT THAT BAD. WE ALL HAVE MADE FUN OF IT.

Here comes white knight Spork, yelling at my partner to not make fun of jewish traditions. Its insensitive and blastephemous. Only to then dominate the conversation to talk about their trans jesus muse who openly talks about being abused by god

(Recap of the voice call i had with the mod)

So spork, a white passing person AT BEST, told my darker complexion NATIVE MEXICAN BOYFRIEND. That he shouldn't make jokes about judaism? When spork is a white satanist? And all abrahamic religions not just Catholicism has caused damage to our populations? You didn't even let him say more then that one joke, you didn't even give him 10 seconds to say is name before dominating the conversation again

Sweetie. 1.) Anyone can criticize and make fun of the bible, the torah, or the Quran. 2.) SAYING JESUS WASHED FEET. WHICH IS TRUE. IS NOT AS INFLAMMATORY. As making a gay trans jesus blog AS A ROLEPLAY CHARACTER. To talk about how god abused him.

And these are just my personal experiences with spork.

WANNA KNOW WHAT HAPPENED WHEN THEIR FRIEND POLITELY ASKED TO STOP SHIPPING BUT STILL BE FRIENDS?

HMMM. THATS WEIRD. THATS A PRETTY POLITE WAY TO GO ABOUT HAVING A CONVERSATION. BECAUSE CONSENT TAKES TWO PARTIES. WHAT WAS YOUR RESPONSE TO ONE PARTY NOT CONSENTING SO YOU DONT GET YOUR WAY?

OH YEAH.

YOU VAGUE POST ON THE DASH, GUILT TRIP PEOPLE FOR STILL ASSOCIATED WITH VOID (gin-n-chthonic) and get upset when you saw them on your dash because you keep block evading them to see if they were talking about you. YOURE MENTAL HEALTH WAS MESSED UP BECAUSE YOUR FRIEND HAD A POLITE CONVERSATION WITH YOU? ABOUT NOT REAL CHARACTERS? AND YOUR RESPONSE WAS A PUBLIC CALL OUT POST. And then you go around to people like slurk.

Who've you've been codependently abusing for a long time. And try to guilt trip them into blocking void.

Because thats a sound response. AS WELL AS BITCH AND MOAN ABOUT IT IN CALL FOR DAYS. THIS ISN'T EVEN INCLUDING THE FACT THAT YOU HAVE A HABIT OF GETTING YOUR FRIENDS AND PARTNERS TO ATTACK AND OSTRICIZE PEOPLE FOR YOU. Remember when jessica was sick with covid. But you wanted an answer so bad. That you sent your boyfriend after her? CAUSE WE DO.

And how you admitted in voice call that you would type from Boogies account to send people things, speak for him. OR ADMITTED THAT ROLEPLAYING IS A SPIRITUAL THING FOR YOU. How these characters are extension of yourself and if they feel pain or rejected you do? So every time someones muse doesn't want to interact with them. YOU A REAL HUMAN BEING FEEL THE PAIN?

cause we do.

SO LETS RECAP. TLDR;

you give ultimatums

guilt trip

block evade

were openly racist to a mexican indigenous man

hit on my girlfriend infront of me

can't read a room socially

send mobs after people

talk about traumatic shit without peoples consent

overly sexual even when we say we're uncomfortable

fly off the handle and go on public tirades when we try to talk to you, then get surprised when no one wants to talk to you and just quietly exits your life

use your loved ones accounts to talk to people who go nc with you

only white knight and virtue signal when its convenient to you

want to control everyones character and insert your muse into everything but when they don't comply you guilt trip, bitch, give ultimatums, or post publicly about not being loved

you weaponize your marginalization as a trans man but are clearly white passing and command alot of social power from your social media presence

sexually harass people around you

and you tone police the people of color around you when we speak up

WE DIDN'T BLOCK YOU OVER A FAKE RP EVENT. WITH FAKE PEOPLE THAT YOU INSIST ARE REAL. WE REFUSE TO BE AROUND YOU BECAUSE YOU REFUSE TO GET HELP FOR YOUR MENTAL HEALTH. WE BEGGED YOU TO. AND YOU GUILT TRIP PEOPLE WITH THREATS OF OSTRICHCIZATION AND SELF HARM.

YOU'RE A BAD PERSON SPORK.

[defectivevillain]

this winding labyrinth, ch10

chapter ten: departure

pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Reader (reader's race & gender are ambiguous; no physical descriptors or pronouns are used)

summary:

You wish you never met Hannibal Lecter. But you yearn for his presence. You want to forget him. But he never truly leaves your thoughts. Now, you’re left to pick up the pieces of a broken design. A battle of instinct rages on in your mind—one of bittersweet relief and cloying grief, fearless resolve and poignant regret; a clashing between affection and antipathy, pride and pain. What will win, in the end? Only time will tell.

this is chapter 10, act 2 of this broken design. if you haven't read act 1 or chapters 1-9, this won't make too much sense.

ao3 version | Spotify playlist

author's notes: Frederick is so cunty. He INVENTED cunt. This man stared down Abel Gideon and didn’t even flinch. He just said “see you in court.” 💅 This man left Hannibal a copy of the book he wrote *based on him*. That shit was crazy!! I don’t care what anyone says. Frederick is cunty.

Anyway. This chapter has been eluding me for a while. I wanted to live up to the intensity from the book, but I felt like that was impossible for me to accomplish. I also didn’t want this to be a straight replication of the book scene, so… I tried to make this deviate a bit more. So, here goes. It’s a bit shorter as far as chapters go, but whatever.

I also made small edits in the first installment of this series, changing the writing from Hannibal giving you his clothing to Hannibal just giving the reader clothing in their size. I realized it wasn’t inclusive to all body types so I wanted to change it. Plus, imo, it’s even more homoerotic to think that Hannibal specifically bought clothing for you and kept it at his house. That’s very gay. Anyways. Back to regularly scheduled programming!

Warnings: typical violence/blood; kidnapping, death, vomiting. Lots of gore for this one. To avoid spoilers, I’ll put more in-depth warnings in the endnotes.

Frederick Chilton wants to pick you apart. And he isn’t the only one—far from it. That’s the danger of being in a position like yours—a federal agent tasked with chasing after killers and criminals. The thrill of the chase… It forms a relationship between cat and mouse, predator and prey. Frederick may be a predator, but you are not his prey; you have a much larger carnivore on the prowl nearby, haunting your shadows and waiting for you to slip. Frederick may be intrigued by you, but Hannibal Lecter is utterly fascinated by you. There’s no denying the harsh shift in his behavior, from silent and nearly despondent in your absence to verbose and enigmatic upon your arrival. Frederick had tried to pull that energy out of him through their sessions, but he was entirely unsuccessful. Lecter was well aware of his research interest, and seemed perfectly content with keeping his lips firmly closed in the first years of his captivity. 

The thought interests and infuriates Frederick in equal measure. After all, having unrestricted access to an intelligent, self-aware sociopath is a very rare opportunity. The sheer strides Chilton could make in the field of abnormal psychology from even a single test score from Lecter… Frederick has to actively push himself away from those thoughts. They are nothing more than a deluded fantasy, for Hannibal Lecter completely defies quantitative reasoning. 

Frederick muses on the nature of Hannibal Lecter as he approaches the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane. The building is still a bit of an eyesore. Since his promotion to Head Administrator, he’s made efforts to both repair the space and modernize many of their practices. Whether those efforts have done much to improve the institution’s reputation is another story altogether. 

He’s looking forward to sitting down at his desk and getting through the mountain of paperwork waiting for him. The thought has been bearing heavily on his mind over the weekend, and Frederick is eager to do something with the restless energy that he can’t seem to suppress. 

He’s one step away from the stairs leading up to the entrance when a sudden harsh pain erupts in the back of his head. Frederick topples to the ground as his blurring vision slowly fades to black. The last sensation he can register before succumbing to unconsciousness is a vice grip on his ankle. 

A harsh ringing sound forces Frederick to acknowledge his hazy new reality. His head lolls forward and he blinks open his eyes, only to be met with an unrelenting darkness. It takes him a few seconds to realize he’s been blindfolded, and a few more to register the bindings around his wrists and ankles. He seems to be restrained in a chair. 

Frederick isn’t new to being kidnapped—not after Abel Gideon. But this particular situation feels different. Something deep in his chest—an inexplicable yet unwavering conviction—tells him he won’t survive this particular encounter. Because if his captor is who he suspects… he will show no mercy. 

He immediately starts fidgeting and struggling, but the effort is pointless. Frederick has been tightly and effectively restrained. Fear strikes at his heart as his senses work to interpret the space around him. Darkness camouflages the majority of the space, but Frederick can just barely make out some sort of projector screen in front of him. There’s a projector situated right next to him, tauntingly close and within reach. But what good would it serve?

The sound of footsteps sends Frederick’s heart roaring in his ears. He almost feels trapped in the foreign room, time moving like a slow sludge as another presence makes itself known. The person—evidently his captor—steps behind him, their breath practically hitting Frederick’s neck in their proximity. 

“Frederick Chilton.” His captor’s voice breaks through the stiff air and sends a shiver down Frederick’s spine. It sounds like he has some sort of speech impediment, as his S’s are drawn close together. Frederick has very little time to dedicate to that observation, as his blindfold is roughly yanked off. “Lay your eyes upon me. If you don’t wish to look, I will make you look.”

Frederick’s eyes water and he blinks a few times, only to find himself staring at a blindingly white projector screen. Before it stands a shadowed figure, towering over him in near darkness. The man takes a step forward and Frederick just barely stops himself from inhaling sharply at what he finds.

The man is wearing an elegantly patterned kimono; he has a cleft lip, his face slightly disfigured. His knuckles are cracked and bloodied. The man looks at him with gleaming eyes, almost appearing to salivate before him. Frederick’s heart drops to his throat as he remembers everything the FBI deduced about this killer and his personality. The Tooth Fairy stands before him entirely unmasked… and Frederick is assailed with the unshakable conviction that he is not going to live to escape this nightmare. 

“Do you understand?” His captor asks after a few minutes. 

Frederick doesn’t understand anything that’s happening. But he has the wherewithal to recognize the answer the man is looking for. “I understand,” he says through gritted teeth. His mouth is growing dry and his stomach is aching. Just how long has he been confined here? 

“Do you understand who I am?” The man insists. 

“I understand,” Frederick repeats. The only thing he is able to adequately understand is the pulsing fear running through his bones, cementing his fate to die a slow death behind these crumbling walls. Frederick can’t even begin to understand or comprehend the man before him. 

“I am no man,” his captor says, as if somehow sensing his thoughts. His voice echoes in Frederick’s ears, igniting goosebumps along his skin. “I am many things, but never a man. Do you understand?”

“I understand.” Frederick is too terrified to say anything else. He can’t deviate from his agreement, for fear of losing his life to this behemoth standing before him. Indeed, his captor is inhumanly tall—looming over him with a far too intent gaze. Every rational part of Frederick’s mind is reminding him of the likelihood of his own impending death. 

“Do you see?” His captor demands.

“I see.” Frederick chokes out. The man quickly breaks the distance between them, his large hand crawling up Frederick’s neck and cradling his jaw. It takes an immense amount of effort from Frederick to remain pliant under the killer’s grip. His touch is deceptively light, almost gentle. Frederick’s breaths are shaky and shuddering. He is forced to be frozen in his bonds, as this man’s thumb carve paths along his face. 

“Once upon a time,” his captor murmurs, his voice almost a whisper. Frederick is terrified of this man—terrified of the juxtaposition between his purported cruelty and the delicacy with which he’s touching him now. Frederick nearly chokes on a breath when the man’s thumb glides over his Adam’s apple, before sliding up to his cheek once more. “I would’ve killed to be like you.” Frederick doesn’t need to think about that statement too much to understand the gist of what he’s saying. He can’t imagine the kind of cruelty and harsh treatment this man has been faced with on account of his facial disfigurement. And while that is no valid excuse for the crimes he’s committed, it contextualizes the desperation behind them. The desire to be seen. The need to be perceived. 

“But not anymore.” He continues. Frederick swallows past the acidic feeling in his throat. The man’s hand keeps rising higher, higher, higher. Now, his right hand stops at the edge of Frederick’s cheekbone, his thumb close enough to make Frederick’s eye flutter instinctively. “Bear witness to my Becoming.” 

It happens in a dizzying blur. His captor’s hand twists, his fingers locking into sharpened hooks. Frederick doesn’t even have the time to flinch before the man is digging his hand into his eye socket and yanking, dragging his eye out in a brutal move that rips a horrified scream from Frederick’s lips. He has never been in so much pain before. It feels as if his captor is digging deeper and deeper into his eye socket, ripping at anything and everything. Frederick’s vision goes dark on the left, deep red tears streaking down his face. In a harsh, disgusting snap, his eyeball is firmly ripped out. His severed optic nerve hangs out of the cavern that sits on the left side of his face. Someone has been screaming in a raspy, broken voice—and it takes Frederick several moments to realize the sound is coming from him.

The killer holds Frederick’s eyeball in his hand. Frederick feels nausea bubbling up his chest and into his throat with frightening speed, barely giving him a chance to prepare before he’s lurching forward in vain and promptly throwing up. Within seconds, he’s dry-heaving as saliva drips down his lips. He’s shaking and trembling, as the vision from his right eye almost pulsates in time with his heart. 

Frederick wants nothing more than to sink into unconsciousness. But the killer is shaking him roughly by the shoulders and hitting him every time his eye threatens to slip shut. At some point, Frederick’s exhaustion is temporarily at bay. “I want you to repeat after me, Frederick,” his captor demands, a camera in hand as he stares at him. “You can do that for me, can’t you?” 

Frederick can hardly respond. He manages a jerky nod and the man hums, starting his camera and giving him the words to say. Frederick is horribly delirious, the words falling to mush on his tongue. He’s slurring through the blood in his mouth and what he’s saying holds absolutely no meaning to him. 

His captor is cruel and merciful in the same breath, for once Frederick truly starts to lose the battle against unconsciousness, he is freed from his bonds and led to collapse on the floor. His cheek meets the scratchy carpet and he blinks tears from his uninjured eye, the man before him morphing and swirling in darkness. 

A wet wipe is rubbed harshly over his face, roving over his cheekbones and following the path the killer  had made with his fingers only moments ago. Frederick lets out a pained whimper and the pressure stops, replaced with an achingly tender swipe along his skin that still seems to hurt. His mind is buzzing, a dull hum that refuses to leave him in solitude. As much as he tries to stay awake and aware of his surroundings, the pain ripping through his face is enough to drag him into the shadows once more. 

He does not wake as he is bound to a wheelchair and thrown into the back of a van. Frederick does not wake, even during the horribly bumpy car ride that ensues. If he were able to pull himself from the unseeing void, he would recognize the fate that awaits him. But he is unknowing of the horrors that have not yet ended. 

Frederick is only broken from his slumber by the harsh screeching of the van arriving at its final destination. He blinks and the doors slide open, revealing his captor standing outside with a mask secured over his face and gloves covering his hands. Frederick can discern little of the environment around him, save for the inky black night devoid of stars. The man then steps into the back of the van and rolls Frederick out onto the pavement.  

“A mortal cannot witness the transformation of a god without dying,” he remarks, his hands gripping the handles of the wheelchair. Frederick desperately tries to escape, despite knowing it’s no use. His vision is still adjusting to the loss of his left eye; he’s exhausted; and the ropes binding his ankles and wrists are rather tight. The killer seems to know this, as a strange sort of smile rises on his lips. “This has always been your fate.”

It is only then that Frederick notices the red gasoline canister he’s holding. Even through his exhaustion, his mind rapidly connects the canister to the box of matches poking out of the killer’s pocket. The Tooth Fairy is going to burn him alive. Frederick begins to writhe and squirm as his adrenaline spikes, but his struggling is futile. There is nothing human in the monster’s face as he upturns the canister, coating Frederick in gasoline. Frederick is nearly hyperventilating now, as flashes of significant moments in his life come to mind. 

He stares up into the eyes of his captor, searching for a hint of humanity to appeal to. But there is only an unfeeling abyss. Terrified, Frederick watches in mute horror as the Tooth Fairy circles around him and stops behind him. He hears the telltale sound of a match being lit; a searing warmth greets the side of his face, before a match crawls down his shirt and his entire body is consumed with flames. At some point, Frederick is shoved forwards—sending the wheelchair careening down an incline with increasing speed. He screams until his voice dies in his chest. Fire paints his tunneled vision a remarkable orange-red, with the air around him flickering and waving with the sudden heat. His last breath ripped from his chest, Frederick Chilton slumps back in the wheelchair and surrenders to the relentless flames.

warnings: gore involving eyeballs/eye sockets & ensuing blindness; kidnapping and captivity.

next chapter

endnotes: Did I have to make that so homoerotic? No. Do I regret it? Also no.

Wow. I really made Frederick go through it. *Sigh.* I love hurting characters I like.

anyways, thanks for reading! <3

check out my other works, sorted by fandom.

friendly reminder that i don't give permission for my writing to be shared to other sites, stolen, copied, translated, or used in any way. thanks!

hannibal taglist: @its-ares @tobbotobbs @xrisdoesntexist @gr1mmac3 @tiredstarcerberuslamb @yourlocalratwriter @kingkoku @kahuunknown @atlas-king1 @pendragon-writes @slipknotcentury @cryinersaved @the-ultimate-librarian @starre-eyes @pendragon-writes @peterparkeeperer @gayschlatt69 @flow33didontsmoke @mrgatotortuga @house-of-1000-corpses-fan

[zipegs]

I’m back again with another rec list!! This time, I’ll be focusing on ostensibly lesser-known long fic—for my own organizational purposes, this means a word count of (approximately) 20k+. I will be including WIPs this time around, but they’ll be clearly indicated at such. Recs are divided into two categories—canonverse (including slight adjustments to it) and alternate universe. All fics are Hannigram unless otherwise noted. 

Please be sure to heed all archive tags and warnings! Hope you enjoy, and don’t forget to give the authors some love!!

Dolce Far Niente by @avegetariancannibal​ [E, 20k]

Hannibal and Will have many, many sweet things to say and do to each other.

Technically this is part of a series, but I found it reads perfectly well on its own! 20k of Will and Hannibal being soft, sappy, and incredibly in love post-fall. A little domestic fluff, a little vacationing, and a little smut—the holy trinity tbh.

The Fall, The Flood, The Flight - Hannigram by write_starlight_riots [T,  24k]

Hello! :]

This is mainly the manifestation of a very indulgent inspiration/daydream/thought experiment that seeks to explore what immediately-post-fall Hannigram would be like. And I mean /immediately/.

Also inspired by @/threadsoflacee on tumblr!

I’m a sucker for hurt/comfort, sickfic, and vulnerability, and oh man does this fic deliver! The boys are hanging on for dear life as they fight to take care of each other’s wounds while struggling through their own. Both of them are absolutely hamstrung by their injuries in the most delicious ways, and we also get some wonderful ~feelings~ drama and realizations mixed in with it all. Very visceral and desperate in the best of ways.

Io by cuspid [M, 24k]  * WIP

"You look tired, Will. Why don't you rest? I promise I'll wake you if anything should happen." "It's already happening," Will said, and Hannibal's smile widened.

On the way to the cliff house, Will begins to feel unwell.

SUCH an amazing A/B/O AU! Will presents as omega and goes into his first heat while he and Hannibal are driving to the cliff house. cuspid’s writing is STUNNING, and I’m particularly enjoying the way they weave omegaverse into the universe, including the cultural and language differences they include when we get Chiyoh’s POV. It really feels like an intrinsic (and very NBC Hannibal) part of the universe, and they fit it flawlessly into canon. Speaking of, they include some fantastic Chiyoh POV as well as POV from an original character who I fell in love with instantly. Amazingly hot, fantastic characterization, sexual tension... 1000/10 highly recommend. Last updated June 29, 2023.

The Rules of Disorder by @lestatdelioncourte​ [E, 53k]  * WIP

He is falling...

Will Graham falls off a cliff in the arms of Hannibal Lecter, finally accepting the darkest parts of himself. He wakes up, uninjured and in Hannibal's bed in his old Baltimore house. Confused, Will quickly realises something is wrong and has to navigate a new reality: one where Hannibal Lecter is not a killer, where they have made a life together without any of the familiar horrors. It is his ideal world...isn't it?

I’m definitely a sucker for parallel universe/time travel nonsense, and this fic doesn’t disappoint!! It’s so heartbreaking and hopeful and bittersweet—Will finally gets everything he could have had, only to realize it’s not the same as what he wanted at all. Very investing, emotionally rewarding fic! Definitely feeds my hankering for angst while not being one-note painful—it’s got that delicious balance of comfort and pain that I can’t get enough of. Last update was June 2023.

Honzen Ryōri by @terminalfids​ [E, 54k] * WIP

"I have never felt as alive as I did when I was killing him," Will admitted in a whisper, and it was true. His skin ached with it, felt like he might simply burst from it. It wasn't enough to contain him.

"Then you owe Randall Tier a debt," Dr. Lecter mused softly, still holding on to Will's hand as he cast a glance over the corpse before them. "How will you repay him?"

"I want to skin him," he said after a long moment, dragged out until he could feel Dr. Lecter's emotions swallow his own with anticipation. The man's feelings were bombastic. Loud and inescapable when he let them fly free on his face. It was easy to submerge himself in it, mirror it, until Will felt more of Dr. Lecter in his head than himself. Dr. Lecter wasn't a psychopath. He was more emotionally alive than anyone Will had ever met. He just also happened to be able to act as cruelly as though he felt nothing at all but cold curiosity at the simple flip of a switch. "I need the- the parts. I want to build him a monument. Do you know a place where I might do that?"

For the second time since his release from the BSHCI he thought that Dr. Lecter might kiss him. He told himself that he was relieved when he did not.

Canon-divergent from Naka-Choko. Picked this fic up soon after it was first published my god did I enjoy it!! The very first scene had me head over heels—it’s beautifully written, delightfully intimate, and has just the combo of hurt/comfort, inner conflict, and turmoil that makes me drool. I’ve loved the little changes terminalfids has made to canon so far, and the way they’ve echoed or adapted canon scenes and lines in new, appropriately divergent contexts. Really fantastic characterization and POVs from both characters—I love the insights we get from each of them and am SO excited to see how it all turns out! Last updated on February 2024.

A place you can never go by @det395​​ [E, 84k]

When things don’t go according to plan, Hannibal makes a wish. He finds himself a year-and-a-half in the past and seemingly given another chance with Will.

His feelings about the situation only get more complicated when he realizes he may not have completely lost access to his old timeline after all.

A Digestivo canon divergence.

I have never ever felt so emotionally conflicted (/positive) while reading a time travel/parallel universe fic! Jen writes these characters beautifully and captures their pain so well. I love the way she uses the memory palace throughout this, and I was hanging on every word. Absolutely stunning fic that has become one of my all-time favorites. She also has written two DELICIOUS timestamps/accompanying one shots, which are part of the same Ao3 series as this fic.

The Storyteller by @gzdacz-writes-fic​ [E, 188k]

Hannibal has little choice: to eliminate the threat he presents, he must stand by and let illness consume Will Graham. But the brighter Will burns, the more the delusions of his inflamed brain begin to spill onto Hannibal's world, until the boundaries between the real and imagined become faint - and something Other slips through.

Canon divergent from partway through season 1. I will rec this fic until I’m blue in the face. It starts out /painful/—Hannibal lets Will’s encephalitis continue on unhindered with some truly devastating results—and continues on a slow, emotional, bittersweet train that incorporates some truly lovely character moments, some great catharsis, and an incredibly engaging surreal/magical realism–style mystery. Fantastic writing and characterization, incredibly engaging through and through. HIGHLY recommend but be prepared for the road to be bumpy! There’s a lot of caretaking and recovery both mental and physical, in addition to some emotional turmoil 🥰

Callin’ Anybody, Can You Hear Me? by nobetterlove [E, 19k] 

Daring to take an Introduction to Visual Arts class, a completely blind Will Graham ventures into The Walters Art Museum for an assignment. While taking the narrated tour, Will isn't prepared for the heavily accented voice flowing through his speakers, flawlessly describing the art that brought each piece to life. Though it was hard to believe, love at first listen sat at the back of his mind.

Two years later, Will visits the museum every other Friday, fixated on both the voice and the beauty and knowledge his favorite museum had to offer. With the right connections and a true talent, Will scores a gig playing for the museum's latest exhibit reveal. When a recognizable voice makes the opening presentation, Will is overwhelmed with feelings and dreamed up possibilities. What happens when the voice becomes a real person, who finds Will just as interesting?

Or - the one where Will falls in love with Hannibal's voice before ever meeting him.

A really lovely piece! The characterizations ring so true to me and I love this portrayal of blind Will Graham. The author does a wonderful job with Will’s inner monologue and really beautifully portrays his perspective and interaction with the world as influenced by both his blindness and his Classic Will Graham character that we’ve all grown to love! The first meeting between Will and Hannibal is so heartwarming, sweet, and charmingly fluffy, and their relationship blossoms quickly—we’re treated to some really lovely dates that beautifully capture that honeymoon-stage flutter and fondness, and there’s a lovely navigation of their mutual loneliness that definitely hit home for me. Though this fic itself is technically complete, it does end on a cliffhanger meant to be picked up by a second installment of the series. If you end at the penultimate scene, though, it can be read as a complete work!

Songs for the End of the World by th_esaurus [M, 20k] Will Graham/Abigail Hobbs/Hannibal Lecter,  Will Graham/Abigail Hobbs

When the infection hits, swift and relentless, turning men into monsters and the world into a wilderness, Will Graham is one of the few who doesn't run. He's lost his wife, he has no colleagues, and Abigail Hobbs has been a ghost for such a long time; the only person he has left in the world is sitting in the dank cells of Baltimore Hospital for the Criminally Insane.

Waiting for him.

A TLOU-inspired post-canon AU written before s2 aired. Really beautifully written, fantastically emotional and heart-wrenching piece that kept me engaged all the way through to the bittersweet end. The characterizations are so good and the prose is amazing—highly recommend! For those who don’t normally read Will/Abigail or Hannibal/Abigail, it is present, but I think even those who don’t normally find that to be their cup of tea could enjoy this piece! There are a few very brief sex scenes between Will and Abigail (really no more than a few lines) but it’s the intimacy and distance and horror and love between the three of them that really shines through!

oh, give no faith to show by videcormeum [M, 25k]  * WIP

“Try to relax your shoulders. Be one with your body, do not fight it.”

Atoms separated them. Will swallowed. With a deep, steadying breath, he allowed his shoulders to drop. It felt better, the pull at his muscles easier. His chin lifted naturally. Projecting to the balcony.

Hannibal smiled. “That’s good, Will.”

Dancers are dying at a local ballet company. With local law enforcement convinced it's an inside job, promising FBI agent and ex-dancer Will Graham is sent undercover to investigate. When he meets renowned ballet dancer Hannibal Lecter, it becomes clear that the investigation will be anything but straightforward.

Yes, you need to read a Ballet AU. Trust me. The whole cast is repurposed here as part of the ballet company (except for Jack Crawford, who remains with Will in the FBI camp), from dancers Zeller and Bev to ballet master Hannibal, choreographer Chilton, and Madame Du Maurier. The piece is really delightful and full of emotion, old trauma, and sexual tension while also delivering some really fun company bonding and banter. Really lovely piece, especially for anyone with any interest or experience in dance or performance! Last updated May 2021.

A Trip for Biscuits by anothersummerday (M_hys_a) [E, 26k]

In late summer 1936, Bedelia du Maurier's traveling circus is plagued by a series of murders, and Will Graham begins a brief but passionate affair with a man named Roman Fell.

Wow, a delightful read all the way through! The circus aspect itself doesn’t play too big—we don’t see any performances, so it mostly serves as a backdrop that provides a really lovely traveling outcast feeling. We get an encephalitis-era Will analog here, grappling with having killed Hobbs and facing his canon-typical nightmares and sleepwalking, and then Hannibal, using the alias Roman Fell, shows up smack in the middle of all of it. Delicious repurposing of canon dialogue, lovely cameos and supporting roles from characters like Margot, Reba, Dolarhyde, and Peter, and just really smooth, engaging writing.

climb into your shell of grief by skellytons [T, 37k]  * WIP

"There is... a distinctiveness to the way that you carry yourself, Will. It is familiar in people like me and unfamiliar in people like them." Hannibal looks up at the sky, reading the stars. "And people cannot trust what they find unfamiliar."

"Well, what can I do about that?" Will scoffs, feeling quite lost indeed.

"You say you have this man's address."

"Yes."

Hannibal holds out his hand, palm toward the calm sky, "May I have it?"

Will has never been one for support groups. He hadn't planned to stay for long. And then he heard Dr. Lecter speak.

Retired FBI agent Will Graham finally gives in to pressure and attends a grief support group, and one of the members there immediately catches his attention (three guesses who that is). This is definitely a heavy one, so check the tags—lots of angst and hurt/comfort, and the focus really is on Will’s grief and trauma, the background and details of which are fed to us just a little at a time, enough to whet the palate but not give you the whole picture right from the start. It’s also got a fun mixture of canon characters, who poke in from the sides, and unfamiliar ones, who serve as a pleasant, not-at-all distracting backdrop for Will and Hannibal’s interactions. Last updated May 2024.

give it to the dirt by @ropertplant​ [E, 132k]  * WIP

Hannibal gets called in to consult on his second FBI case after The Minnesota Shrike; a string of murders connected to New Orleans. While he’s there, he meets a very interesting tour guide for the city.

They talk. They argue.

And they have much more in common than they may realize.

This is the Hannibal we know from canon—Chesapeake Ripper, psychiatrist, consultant for Jack et al back at the FBI—put up against the Will we know in spirit, if not in exact circumstance. Will has remained in New Orleans and works as a tour guide, living in isolation on the swamp with his seven-plus dogs. There is so much to love about this one!! The characterizations, dialogue, and banter, for one, are delightful and so striking. We get a delicious helping of smitten Hannibal, bitchy/abrasive Dark!Will, delightful inner conflicts, sexual and romantic tension, some hilarious peeks at Team Sassy Science, and more. There are some INCREDIBLY fun and incredibly hot scenes, and there’s great humor throughout along with some really well-done sweet moments. This one absolutely consumed me—once I picked it up I couldn’t put it down! Last updated July 2024.

Symbasis by @bloodripelives​ [E, 126k]

Anabasis: a journey up away from the coast, cf. Xenophon, Alexander. Katabasis: a journey towards the coast, or, descent to the underworld, cf. Persephone, Orpheus.

The world is being torn apart and remade. The ripper of Carthage thinks to help with the tearing; a desert prophet is ready to be remade.

REALLY fantastic Historical AU that starts out at the end of Alexander the Great’s siege of Tyre, where Carthaginian Hannibal son of Lectis happens to have been stuck along with the rest of his envoy for the past seven months. Meanwhile, this version of Will (Weldjebauend, or Wel for short) is an Egyptian priest of Ammon-Re; he’d been found in the desert when he was a child by Joh (Jack), another priest of Ammon-Re, who’d taken him under his wing and brought him into the priesthood. Will’s encephalitis-induced hallucinations and empathy are repurposed into visions and knowledge sent by the gods, Hannibal is a hoplite soldier as well as a murderer who’s got a blood feud to avenge, and some of our favorite minor characters are woven in throughout, including Beverly (Bacaxa), Jimmy (Jason), and Brian (Briarios). There’s A LOT of history in this, and Alexander the Great and the historical happenings that go along with him definitely do not take a backseat. It’s a bit of a slow burn leading up to Will and Hannibal meeting and getting to know each other in any capacity, and it’s an enthralling ride—tei’s writing is fantastic and the characters are absolutely engaging from the very start!

[bitter69uk]

“I was always leaving. Every time I left, I had a different hair colour, and I would be standing on the porch saying goodbye to the older couple in the living room. I didn’t have anything in common with them except that we shared a few inherited chromosomes, the identical last night name and the same bathroom … at this point it would dawn on me there was another problem. Not only was I an alien to my parents, but I was an alien to my friends.” From the book Garden of Ashes (1990) by Cookie Mueller

“Cookie looked like Janis Joplin-meets-Jayne Mansfield, a redneck hippie with a little bit of glamour drag thrown in. She never led a safe life, unsafe was her middle name. She lived on the edge, always.” John Waters on Cookie Mueller.

“Cookie Mueller was a punk when it still meant someone who was raped in prison.” John Waters on Cookie Mueller

Died on this day thirty-five years ago: definitive Baltimore bad girl Cookie Mueller (2 March 1949 – 10 November 1989). The smoky-eyed and vivacious underground actress (she’s a charismatic presence in early John Waters films like Multiple Maniacs (1970), Pink Flamingos (1972) and Female Trouble (1974)), go-go dancer, globe-trotter, advice columnist, art critic, drug dealer, New York scene-maker, eyeliner role model, muse to photographer Nan Goldin (who described Mueller as “the most fabulous woman I’d ever seen”) and authoress of autobiographical volumes like Walking Through Clear Water in a Pool Painted Black and Garden of Ashes died of AIDS-related complications aged just 40. (As well as Mueller’s own musings, I’d recommend Chloe Griffin’s excellent 2014 biography Edgewise: A Picture of Cookie Mueller). Portrait by Bob Berg.

[aftgficrec]

I would loveee fics where Andrew defends Neil to aaron and the other foxes (but definitely Aaron), i’ve seen so many of Neil defending Andrew but not a lot of the other way around and Neil deserves to have his man defend his honorrr

In canon, post-medication Andrew does not talk much to anyone besides Neil. Still there are definitely fics with this. Just know Andrew’s defense of Neil can be one sentence in a story, and physical violence is often his preferred method of communication. -A

previous recs  

‘The Ash is in Our Clothes’ here

‘Absinthe makes the heart grow fonder’ here

‘in the common tongue’ here 

‘I hate him,’ ‘One day we'll reveal the truth,’ ‘i'm getting static from my better sense’ and ‘My brother under the sun’ here

‘some1 saying something…’ here

‘Ember’ here

‘Can he play?’ here

‘Surreal But Nice’ here

‘Least Favorite Only Child’ here

‘Fighting Words’ here

‘Trust Fall (And Welcoming Arms)’ here

‘(Don't) Stand So Close’ here

‘In the Eye of the Beholder’ here

‘Beach Bois’ here

‘I'm Not Okay (I Promise).’ and ‘It’s not living (If it’s not with you)’ here

‘soft spots make easy targets’ here

‘Even the Darkest Night Will End’ and ‘The Andreil escapades’ here

in Masterlist for Nicky Kissing Neil: ‘The Kiss,’ ‘History Repeating,’ ‘Andrew Finds Out,’ ‘Something, Nothing & Everything’ (also big twinyards confrontation), ‘A Crack in the Mask,’ ‘Truth Time, ‘Truths Come Out,’ ‘The Unkindness of Ravens’ ch 16, ‘Delayed Reaction,’ ‘Delayed reaction (the fear of falling remix),’ ‘All For The Game Musings,’ ‘andrew finds out about what happened…,’ ‘Hold Each Other’ ch 6 and ch 15, and ‘Slip’. Finally, ‘Lessons in Cartography’ has Andrew defending Neil to both Aaron and Jack throughout

Andrew defends Neil to non-foxes

‘Something About The Sunshine’ here

‘Warmth’ here

Foxhole Tidbits ‘Ch. 22: Silent, but Snarky’ here

‘Through A Glass Darkly’ and ‘Some Things You Just Can't Bury’ here

‘Martyr’ here

‘The Bones of You’ here

‘monsters at night’ here

‘Killer Bunny’ here 

‘you're not next before forever’ here (completed)

‘looking for you’ here

‘Give Me Another Minute (to Lay Here in Your Echo)’ here 

‘Ficlet Collection…’ ch 35-37 here

you may also like

feral protective Andrew here

protective/possessive Andrew here

overprotective Andrew here 

protective Andrew here

protective Andrew gets hurt here

protective Neil/Andrew here

jealous Andrew here

previous recs where Andrew kills Nathan here

our latest Neil & Aaron ask here

Unconventional Therapy by JostenlovesMinyard [Rated M, Twinyards Appreciation Week 2021]

Twinyard Appreciation Week - Day 2 | “bottle episode” Andrew and Aaron attend their weekly therapy session but things don’t quite go to plan when the door handle falls off and they’re stuck in there together.

tw: implied/referenced rape/nocon, tw: implied/referenced child abuse

Written On His Skin by hismiley16 [Not Rated, 11344 Words, Complete, 2023]

Part 4 of Nothing is Safe Series

The Foxes face the Ravens for the first time since Riko's death and things go as well as expected. Andrew is mildly injured on the court and isn't there to protect Neil when the new Evermore captain comes for him after the game. The team sees more than Neil ever wanted them to, including the ghost of Nathaniel he thought he'd buried in Baltimore.

tw: vomit, tw: bullying, tw: nonconsensual touch/assault  tw: dissociation, tw: graphic depictions of violence, tw: blood, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: implied/referenced murder, tw: implied/referenced animal death, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon

this is me trying by crownowl [Not Rated, 2142 Words, Complete, 2023]

After Neil has a panic attack Andrew finds out exactly what happened when Nicky drugged Neil and he is not happy.

tw: violence, tw: implied/referenced nonconsensual kissing, tw: implied/referenced nonconsensual drug use, tw: ptsd

Don't let me be by Cutie_Wan [Not Rated, 1983 Words, Complete, 2023]

Neil suffers a major dissociation episode in front of the Foxes.

tw: dissociation, tw: violence

One Step Forward by thecompletebookworm [Rated T, 1665 Words, Complete, AFTG Exchange Winter 2020]

Based on the prompt: “Andrew and Aaron talking and solving their problems” "If you really don't care about Andrew, why does Neil bother you so much?"   Dobson asked during their Wednesday session. Aaron dug his fingers into the couch.  He hated this.  Hated that the only time he could get answers out of Andrew was when he was sitting in front of a shrink.   A shrink who was undoubtedly on his brother's side. And that in order to get answers he had to rip himself raw first.  

tw: implied/referenced rape/nocon, tw: implied/referenced child abuse

Angry Alone by obsessivereader156 [Not Rated, 1799 Words, Complete, 2023]

“Of course I’m not homophobic, you asshole. What are you even talking about?” “Aaron, please don’t use that type of language here,” Betsy softly interjects. “You’ve been very hostile towards Neil,” Andrew says plainly, as if that’s enough of an answer. ______________________________ Aaron has been feeling angry and alone lately. Maybe he doesn't have to be alone about it.

Everything's Alright by DarkD [Rated E, 182901 Words, Incomplete, Updated June 2023]

Souls weren't meant to be left alone, so they split, always looking for their other half. No matter how long it took, the moment a soul existed, it sought the one that would complete it. The main indication is, when one of the halves of the soul turns seven years old, an identical mark appears on both parts. Along with that comes a set of unique abilities that soulmates can only use with each other—for protection, for finding each other. Soulmates would never be alone.

tw: graphic depictions of violence, tw: child abuse, tw: torture, tw: blood, tw: gun violence, tw: homophobia, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced csa, tw: murder, tw: canonical character death

A flash of anger. prompt fill by @nickyhenmick [Tumblr, 2016]

All reporters got on Andrew’s nerves. They were invasive and never asked interesting questions, and there was probably a reason he was rarely allowed to be on press duty.

a stupid ass decision prompt fill by @find-yourself-in-passion [Tumblr, 2017]

“I recognize that you have reached a decision,” Andrew replied over the top of Neil’s protests, unwrapping his right hand in such a rush that Neil knew he was going to have red marks where the tap ripped at his flesh. “Andrew-” “But given that it is a stupid ass decision,” He continued on, refusing to acknowledge the other man’s piercing gaze on him as he threw his bag and shoes in the closet, knowing what faced him when he turned around. “I have elected to ignore it.”

Art

3 & 10 art by @thematicallycoherent

im thinkin bout these two art by @wiltkingart

Safe. art by @eislekaj on instagram

exy banquet smoke break art by @twohiddenhalves

Vkook as reference art by @reyko__ on instagram

roof. andrew. tattoos. and two cigarettes. and neil. art by @puhnatsson

Someone strong to lean on art by @fornavn

[nerdieforpedro]

Weekend update 05/05/2024

Hello! It’s been awhile since Nerdie has done one of these. 👀

Yes it has! Why have you only been lurking and popping up with random things?

Well, my smut fairy is playing hide and seek. Has been more hidden as of late. Inspiration has led to different fics than I planned on. And I’ve queued so many posts that my current queue is posting things up until June 5th. 😂

How does one even queue that many things? And what do you mean the smut fairy has been playing hide and seek? We read that Frankie series! And that Dieter update! Nerdie, stop trying to be coy, it doesn’t suit you dear.

I’m not sure how to respond to that. And yeah both of those had smut but it was….I did say the fairy was playing hide and seek. I did not say they were hidden the entire time. 🫣

Details, details. You also changed the title graphic color, why?

Stories are made by their details. Wise advice said by…some smart person somewhere. It reminds Nerdie of a bahama mama. It’s a drink that she enjoys like a pirate. Yohoho! 🏴‍☠️(I’m very sorry. 😣)

Anyway, thank you to the following lovely people who sent me beautiful person asks and who reached out when I was not doing so hot. I know better than to argue with any of you:

@rhoorl @yourcoolauntie @grogusmum @avastrasposts @megamindsecretlair

@westside-rot @laurfilijames @inept-the-magnificent @bitchwitch1981 @secretelephanttattoo

@angelofsmalldeath-codeine @connectioneverywhere @604to647 @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @morallyinept

@yorksgirl @sweetercalypso @schnarfer @soft-persephone @maggiemayhemnj

@magpiepills @paulmescal-s @lotusbxtch @wannab-urs

As for Nerdie’s fic recommendations, they are here! She’s keeping track of them and is going to put the whole list out at the end of the month because, promoting fics is fun and means she can type more randomness. 😆

1. Torment Part 1 Fear by @djarinmuse (Din Djarin x fem OC)

2. Tempered by the Fire by @ladamedusoif (Din Djarin x f reader)

3. Talk Dirty to Me by @morallyinept (Marcus Pike x fem reader)

4. Nightingale by @rosecentaur1916 (Miguel O’Hara x plus size fem reader)

5. Daffodil by @starstruckunknown-princess (Javi G. X reader)

6. Into the Deep End by @magpiepills (Joel Miller: the hole filler x AFAB reader)

7. your favorite kryptonite by @kedsandtubesocks (Comic Bookstore Owner!Dieter Bravo x F!Reader)

8. Kings & Queens by @joels-shitty-puns (Joel Miller x reader)

9. Insatiable by @lowlights (Pero Tovar x fem reader)

10. Top Me, I deserve it by @for-a-longlongtime (Santiago Garcia x Francisco Morales)

11. Fifteen Minutes by @whocaresstillthelouvre (Din Djarin x fem reader)

12. Raining in Baltimore by @schnarfer (Marcus Pike x f reader)

Nerdie did post a bit this week. She’s mainly been posting on AO3 since it takes less time and she can slap things up there with reckless abandon (and sufficient tags).

Part VIII of Only Parts of you Mr. Morales (Frankie Morales) *completed*

The Intended determines their Meaning (Javier Gutierrez)

Sure inside, but will you stay for more after we’re done? Chapter 5 of Weddings 101 with Dieter (Dieter Bravo)

Lastly there are a few ongoing challenges and fun things. Make sure to read individual challenge rules and fun things.

1. Help Wanted: Summer Reading with @strang3lov3 They’re asking for self-recs, recs of fics that have stuck with you, fics that you think others should read. Send them your Pedro boy goods. The best kind of summer reading.

2. Jett’s Flora and Fauna Challenge by @morallyinept It’s the incomparable Jett! Making her own challenge to being your fics, art, Moodboards or all any combinations. It just has to have a Pedro character and flowers. Any length (because we like all kinds here) and can be as many submissions as you want.

3. Jamie’s Ocean Challenge by @mermaidgirl30 Pedro characters, the ocean, fun, fics and moodboards mixed together for this one. Again any length (all are welcome and enjoyed), must have a Pedro character and the ocean in your fic or Moodboard.

4. @pedroscouts The Pedro Scouts have descended upon us to give us badges (gotta collect ‘em all), fun tasks and general tomfoolery to make Tumblr fun! Make sure to read through the rules if you’d like to join.

5. May Drabble Challenge courtesy of the @dieterbravobrainrotclub It features our favorite Kit Kat lover Dieter Bravo and aliens 👽 with a meet-cute. 👀 Not weird enough for you? Then write it extra strange.

So that’s about it. There was a lot of ground to cover but we got it done. Nerdie is going to go see a man about a goat 🐐 and also another guy about some teasing or edging? Maybe it counts as edging. Nerdie is 🫤 unsure. She’s only wrote like one of these before. 😆 She also has to look for boots, maybe she’s gonna go to her second concert 🎵

Stay safe and hydrated everyone!

Love Nerdie! ❤️ ❤️❤️

[stripydottycat]

Hannibal has a secret. Though he himself would not describe it as as such.

Simply something he does not discuss with just anyone. And indeed, he prefers to….show, rather than explain ahead of time.

For while Count Dr Hannibal Lecter VIII MD, when out & about, seeing patients or visiting farmers markets or the Baltimore Opera wears finely tailored suits, with carefully matched shirts, ties & pocket squares….when at home, by himself, he prefers to wear…

Nothing at all

Each day as he makes his way home, a tiny thrill races through him as the time approaches where he can throw off (figuratively of course; he is always careful to return his suit jacket to the padded hangers, pants carefully folded, socks folded together, shirt in the laundry hamper) his carefully selected ensemble, & be utterly bare.

Au naturel. Starkers.

Of course, he is sensible: when he cooks, he wears an apron, to protect his sensitive genitals from splashes, & to avoid chest hairs in the heart tartare. But once the meal is prepared, nothing gives him greater joy than to sit at his table, enjoying a fine meal, in his birthday suit.

He does receive the occasional unexpected caller.

For these occasions he has an appropriately luxurious robe tucked away in a discrete closet near the front door. It takes but a moment to throw it on, open the door & tell his visitor he was just about to head upstairs for a relaxing bath. Not always a lie, but often. It does have the fortunate effect of making his caller feel guilty at disrupting Hannibal’s well deserved leisure time, for is he not a man deserving of such comfort? Even Jack Crawford has hastened away from his door, upon finding Hannibal in his robe, a rubber duckie peeking out of one pocket. On that particular occasion, he bid Jack adieu, watching the man return to his SUV, before closing the door & hanging his robe.

He returned to his study & took up his sketch pad once more. One of the advantages of the visual arts, he mused to himself as he looked over his charcoal sketch of Special Agent Will Graham (as nude as Hannibal himself). The worst injury he would suffer while sketching was perhaps a paper cut to a finger. He smudged the lines on his portrait a little more, then absent mindedly scratched his balls. Well, he thought, looking down, there was also the risk of covering one’s genitals in charcoal smudges, but that was hardly a life threatening injury.

He sighed.

He longed for Special Agent Graham to appear on his doorstep He would not bother donning the robe were Will to knock.

He was sure Will would join him in throwing off the constraints of clothing & polite society, embrace the freedom of being truly himself.

Hopefully they could even touch peepees.

[jadevalentine-writes]

Hannibal Fic WIP - Mystery Neighbor AU

Riding the high of completing Wild Hunt, I'm here to thrust another WIP upon ye. Behold, my first Hannibal fic, and despair!

Tagging the muses: @subtlybrilliant, @tindragon09, @prommethium

---

Hannibal noticed something was off the moment he pulled into his driveway. Out of caution, he remained in the Bentley, engine idling, as he studied the exterior of his home in the waning summer light. 

The front doors were closed and the windows he could see looked intact. The back of the townhouse was obscured by the eight foot wooden privacy fence but he didn’t notice any signs of disruption from his point of view. Of course his security system would have alerted him to any unwanted entry, but Hannibal Lecter was nothing if not pragmatic. Any criminal worth their salt could easily disable an alarm, even one as expensive as his. 

Hannibal sighed and turned to his right, looking instead to the long empty townhouse next to his own. A moment’s reprieve was his goal, a negative to his own home’s exterior to make any differences more apparent. 

Then he saw it. 

A for sale sign swung gently in the warm breeze. 

Hannibal smiled and turned off the car. 

The quote “Netherfield Park was let at last” came to mind, though the townhouse to his right held none of the grandeur of the fictitious estate. Hannibal also doubted that a wealthy man in want of a wife would find his way to this particular Baltimore neighborhood anytime soon. And there certainly would not be any grande balls, to his chagrin. 

Hannibal chided his caution as he approached the front door. Although he rarely interacted with his neighbors, the prospect of a new one was still exciting. Perhaps they would have a taste for art and music, like he did, and he would see them at gallery openings and operas, nodding to each other over champagne and rocks glasses but never speaking. Maybe they would appreciate fine dining as he did and he could try new dishes out on them if he was feeling adventurous. 

Or perhaps they would be new to their wealth and rude, and they would feature in a dish themselves.

***

The next evening, Hannibal returned home with dinner on his mind. 

There was a liver he should really use before it was past its prime and he was debating on how to prepare it.  Marinating was best, and it did not bother him to eat late. He was walking towards the door, mentally going through his stock of wine that would pair well with the main course when he heard a creak that made him pause. 

Hannibal angled his head towards the door, listening intently for breathing on the other side, when again his gaze landed on the sign in the yard next door. 

Sale Pending the attachment underneath swayed. 

Well, that was fast. 

Hannibal smirked as he let himself into the foyer. Soon, he would have a new neighbor and a new source of entertainment or irritation, at least for a little while.

***

Saturday brought with it slumber and sunshine. 

And multiple dogs barking. 

The last drove Hannibal from the warmth of his bed out of academic curiosity. He rarely heard dogs in his neighborhood, let alone so close to his house. The dogs of the Baltimore elite were small, to be seen, not heard, and toted around in designer bags.

These dogs sounded larger and multiple. 

Hannibal crossed the hall to the guest bedroom which was adjacent to his driveway and looked out. 

His neighbor had arrived, in four-legged, frantic glory. 

[t3acupz]

🩻🤍💉 Brownham Medwhump May 💉🤍🩻

6. Doctor turned patient

Will usually comes home at around 7 PM to make dinner for both of them but today Matthew wanted to surprise the older man with a home cooked meal. He had been planning it for the past couple of days, and he finally settled on a recipe he felt confident enough to attempt.

Before living with Will, Matthew would get takeout every night from one of the hole-in-the-wall restaurants that littered the street by his apartment. Since moving in a month ago, Will cooked all the meals. During the week he’d make Cajun inspired dishes for dinner, and on the weekends he would bring Matthew with him while he fished. The former orderly would silently sit by the side of the stream, and watch Will cast his line, in awe of the gracefulness of his technique.

After taking a few weeks off, Will decided to go back to teaching to keep his mind occupied on anything other than the incessant Chesapeake Ripper news cycle. He liked working with the FBI trainees, and giving lectures on topics that caused both intrigue and fear in the minds of the young hopefuls.

Earlier in the day, Matthew took Winston on the five mile long run to the closest mom-and-pop grocery store. Will offered Matthew his old, beat up Harley-Davidson that was stored away in his shed but after inspecting it, and deciding that Will was better at restoring boats than motorcycles, Matthew said he’ll just walk. He didn’t mind it, Wolf Trap was scenic and peaceful compared to his old life in Baltimore.

It was 5:30 PM, and the sun was starting to set. Matthew had almost two hours to cook the skillet French onion chicken with baby potatoes. The grocery store didn’t have a great selection of fresh meat or vegetables so he made do with what he could scavenge. He started boiling a large pot of water for the potatoes, and suddenly realized he was surrounded by the whole pack, their tongues drooling over the wooden floor and their tails eagerly smacking his legs in anticipation of any scraps. Matthew watched Will cook all the time, and the dogs would typically lounge by the warm fireplace. He realized how well Will must have trained them but they weren’t interested in taking any orders from the newcomer.

“C’mon pups, let me through.” Matthew chuckled as the dogs didn’t move at all. He resigned to just having to maneuver his way around them, careful not to step on their paws.

He threw the potatoes in the boiling water, and picked up one the onions. How hard could it be, he mused, observing the layers as grabbed one of Will’s kitchen knives. Within seconds of cutting into the onion, Matthew’s eyes started stinging. “Yeah, this is a little annoying,” He said out loud to no one in particular but all the dogs perked up. “And no, none of you are getting any onion scraps.” He glanced down at Buster who was whining right under his feet. “I don’t think dogs can eat them anyway.”

In an instant, the pack started barking, and Max, Will’s burly retriever mutt, bumped into Matthew as he ran after the others to the front door. With his eyes full of tears from the onion, and his feet losing balance, Matthew’s hand slipped, slicing his thumb a half centimeter down into the flesh.

“Hey guys!” Will cheerfully exclaimed as he rubbed the closet canine’s back, coming home more than an hour earlier. “The students had presentations today so I didn’t need to stay late to grade—” He dropped his briefcase on the floor in shock when he finally locked eyes on Matthew bleeding on the floor of the kitchen. Sensing something was off, the dogs became frantic, running back and forth between the entryway and the kitchen.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” Matthew grimaced, as he tried and failed to stop the bleeding. “It’s just a little cut.” Will ran over to Matthew, and helped him to a nearby chair.

“Stay here, the first aid kit is in the closet.”

Blood was already pooling by his feet, reminding him of his murder tableau. Prior to now, he hadn’t considered how painful cutting flesh would be until he accidentally did it to himself. Hannibal must’ve really wanted to eat me for what I did to his wrists.

“Are you feeling faint?” Matthew shook his head as Will hastily brought out the isopropyl alcohol. “This will sting a bit.”

Will gently took Matthew’s hand, and slowly started pouring the antiseptic over his left thumb. Matthew shut his eyes, desperate to hide the pain. He didn’t want to inconvenience Will any further but nothing gets past the FBI profiler’s keen empathy.

“Look at me, Matthew.” Will commanded. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I’m sorry,” Muttered the young man, looking away from his thumb in hopes that not seeing it would somehow lessen the pain. “I was trying to surprise you with dinner, and then you came home early, and the dogs got—”

“I should’ve called,” Will cut him off while wrapping Matthew’s hand in a clean towel as he applied deep pressure on the cut. “Have you ever gotten stitches before?”

“On my chin, when I was a kid.” Matthew motioned with his free hand to the thin scar that ran down from his lips to the bottom of his chin. “I don’t remember what the stitching felt like though.” He admitted, wondering if he lacked the memory because the pain was too much for his small body to process at the time.

Will took out the curved needle, and sterile suture thread and sighed. “You’re not going to like this.”

Matthew didn’t want to admit that he was enjoying every minute since Will came home. He loved seeing Will take control, and be the doctor this time. Matthew’s mind began to wander to that night a few weeks ago when he gave Will head. They hadn’t done anything more since then. He worried that Will wanted him to leave but was too anxious to admit it. The thoughts were interrupted by the piercing sting of the needle going in.

“You need to stay absolutely still for this part,” Will said, leaning in close so he can see the flesh wound better. Matthew nodded but he was starting to feel dizzy from the loss of blood. Will worked on his thumb, each time the needle went in, Matthew bit his lip. He was sure by now his lip was just as bloody as his thumb. “Almost done, just a little more.” Will assured him.

That was the last thing Matthew remembered before passing out, and falling to the floor.

“Matt! Matt! Wake up!” Will cradled the young man’s limp body in his arms. He felt Matthew’s forehead, a cold sweat had broken out on the younger man’s face. Shit, Will thought as he checked Matthew’s pulse, he must have lost too much blood while being hypoglycemic.

He felt Matthew’s head for any bumps, and carried him to his bed. “Shh!” Will glared at his pack, and they quickly hushed down with tails between their legs, and scurried over to the fireplace.

Will brought a cup of cold water, and a banana with him from the kitchen as Matthew began to stir.

“Will?” He groaned, rubbing his head where he landed on it moments earlier.

“You’re going to be okay, try to sit up and drink some water. I finished your stitches right before you fainted.”

Matthew slumped back in the bed in embarrassment. He ruined dinner, he bled all over the floor, and he forced Will to suture him after a long day of work.

“I’ll pack my things tomorrow morning, and be out of here by noon.” Matthew whispered, taking the cold glass of water.

“What are you talking about?” Will replied in confusion. “Are you sure you didn’t hit your head too hard when you landed?”

“Ever since that night, you’ve not touched me again,” He took a small sip and continued. “I’m sure you feel like it’s too awkward to tell me to leave so I’m doing it for you.”

Will lifted Matthew’s chin up with his pointer finger and kissed him. After he felt Matthew’s body relax into him, he broke the kiss, and cupped Matthew’s flushed cheek. “I want you, Matthew Brown.”

Matthew felt the tears well up. “I—” Will kissed him again, this time with tongue.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” Will whispered as his lips hovered over Matthew’s. “I’m not good at relationships.” He noticed Matthew’s ears turning redder than he’d ever seen them before.

“You look pretty cute when you’re covered in blood,” Will began lifting Matthew’s bloodied shirt over his head. “But it’s probably better if we get you out of these clothes.” Will threw the shirt on the floor, and pulled down Matthew’s bloodied sweatpants next. He ran a hand down Matthew’s hard abs, and slid it into the younger man’s boxers. Matthew gasped at the sensation, unable to stay sitting up anymore, he fell back on the bed.

Will stroked Matthew’s cock until it was hard and throbbing. “Do I want you?” Will asked playfully as he teased Matthew’s cock with his tongue, feeling him squirm in his grasp.

He gave Matthew a rough jerk that made the young man moan into the pillow. “Answer me.” Will instructed, waiting for Matthew to reply before he continued.

“Yes,” Matthew’s breath hitched as Will took his cock in his mouth, and giving it a long, hard suck.

“Yes what?” Will went up the length of Matthew’s cock with his flat tongue.

“You want me,” Matthew groaned, barely able to stay conscious. The pleasure was building, and he wasn’t too sure if Will thought this through but there was no way in hell he was going to stop what was currently happening.

Will pinched Matthew’s pert nipples, and ran his hands down to the enigmatic tattoos on his ribcage. He continued down to Matthew’s hips, and held him down as he bobbed his head, getting faster in accordance to Matthew’s breathing. Will knew that Matthew was getting close to finishing.

“Come for me,” Will commanded, sending Matthew over the edge. He jerked Matthew’s cock until the cum began to spurt onto his abs, caking them with the white liquid. “You did so good for me,” Will praised him, licking the bit of cum that landed on his fingers.

Will took the blanket and began cleaning Matthew. “Matt?” Will noticed that the young man was limp again. “Shit.”

After a few minutes, Matthew regained consciousness. “Oh god, did I pass out again?!” Matthew yelled, covering his face with his hands. Will nodded in amusement.

“I guess I’m that good, huh?” He teased, peeling the banana as he watched Matthew’s ears turning red again.

“Here, eat this, and I'll finish making dinner.” Will smirked, handing the young man the banana as he got off the bed, and headed towards the kitchen. “I’m sure those potatoes are beyond ready at this point.”

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

anyway so now that we've determined jeremiah is the only protagonist who matters and the other guys are DUST, here's jeremiah musing on love (from angel face):

It's not that he doesn’t think about love anymore. In fact, if there’s one thing Jeremiah’s certain of, it’s that he can’t denounce love the way he’d wanted to in Baltimore, the lover in him as intrinsic as his own hands. He likes this about himself, that he finds loveliness in all things: overcast skies, broken radios, wrong turns, peach pie, midnights occupied by another body that ultimately end alone. There’s always something gentle to take away from the bad things, that an overcast sky means rain will soon soothe him, that a broken radio only epitomizes the love it once received, that wrong turns lead to shimmery adventures, that peach pie is still an enemy to him but that you can love an enemy, that the lonesome quiet in naked nights when it’s just you, a duvet, and the murmur of your heart, is the closest thing to brushing heaven.

[naep2nii]

.𖥔˚ OPEN YOUR EYES . . .

⋆˚ ༘ do you think bout me too?. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

MUSE (뮤즈) is a South Korea - based coed group under WEVIUS ENTERTAINMENT. The group consists of 15 members (from oldest to youngest) : Kim SeoYun (Seoyun) , Park YeoJin (Yeojin) , Sajani Deshmukh (Janni) , Luciana D'Ambrosio (Luci) , Hana Kawasaki (Hana) , Kim JaeJin (Jaejin) , Kim JaeMin (Jaemin) , Kento Matsumoto (Kento) , Iman Kane Collins (Iman) , Callaghan Brennan (Cal) , Uyming Zhao (Ming), Cho YuRi (Yuri) , Kim JiYoung (JiJi) , Carmen Solana Valladares (Carmen) , Dumebi Michelle Afolayan (MiMi). The group is made up of 3 sub - groups : ALLURE , UNITE , and INSPIRE. They debuted on June 20th , 2021 , with their EP " A Wink and A Smile and The Land is Ours " , and title track " MOTO PRINCESS " . The group has grown a massive following for their fresh and unique music , multi talented members and unfiltered image.

≡;- ꒰ WHO AM I ? ꒱

BASICS!

~ stage name : MiMi (미미)

~ birth name : Dumebi Michelle Afolayan

~ nickname : bibim

~ birth date : may 13th, 2004 .

~ zodiac sign : taurus

~ MBTI : ENFP

~ birthplace : lagos , nigeria .

~ hometown : lagos , nigeria / calgary , canada .

~ residing in : seoul , korea .

~ nationality : nigerian - canadian

~ ethnicity : african

~ languages : english , yoruba , korean , (semi - fluent) japanese

~ sexuality : pansexual

CAREER!

~ profession(s) : idol

~ group(s) : MUSE , ALLURE

~ group position(s) : maknae , main dancer , fotg

~ representative emoji : 😼

~ titles : ace of kpop , korea's dancing queen , universal it girl , 5th gen it girl , princess of all trades

~ company : WEVIUS Entertainment (2019 - present)

APPEARANCE!

~ height : 175.3 cm / 5'9

~ weight : 52 kg / 114.6 lbs

~ piercings : both lobes , belly button

~ tattoos : "made with love" in calligraphy , lower back / "handle with care" , mid back

~ blood type : O

~ resemblance claim : rei - ive / hanni - newjeans

~ voice claim : teenage ariana grande

MISCELLANEOUS!

~ MiMi has 1 brother and 1 sister. Her brother is currently a famous youtuber , and her sister is still in highschool.

~ Her favourite colors are hot pink and azure blue.

~ After going viral for a highschool talent show performance , her and her best friend Jiyoung auditioned for an upcoming company in South Korea called WEVIUS Entertainment.

~ Her and two of her fellow members, JiJi and Carmen, look uncannily alike.

~ She has a passionate hatred for sugar (except in drinks).

~ Her favorite season is summer.

~ She is scared of clowns and mascots. She is wary of animals, but she’s slowly warming up to the group pets.

~She's currenty rumored to be dating Cal , UNITE's maknae.

~ Her favourite genres of music are uk drill and baltimore club.

~ She has a passion for creating and she loves to help with the group's comebacks whenever she can , whether it's choreographing , designing stage outfits , or sometimes even co - directing music videos. She plans to become a creative director full time if being an idol doesn't work out.

GALLERY!

[stingslikeabee]

3)  our muses take a shower together to wash blood off each other. // just a getting clean after a killin'.

smut prompts with plot . accepting

It was clear to anyone who visited the countess' estate that Melissa was an art collector; the ample building was tastefully decorated with beautiful tableaus, rare porcelain sets, a number of well-maintained musical instruments and exquisite rugs from abroad. It expanded into her own closet, too - jewelry, shoes, limited edition items released by fashion brands that the woman enjoyed and perfume bottles made up for another sizeable (and very private) collection.

Not all of that had been sourced through legal means, however - Melissa had her own contacts who would come to her first for a chance to peruse and acquire what they had procured, either through certain black market channels or simply by opening up a private viewing before bidding began. Such was the nature of a very profitable partnership with an auction house in Baltimore - the gentleman in charge of running the place had come to the countess very often, knowing she was generous in terms of offerings. Perhaps unfortunately for the general public, many beautiful items never saw the light of day away from the Forteguerri manor.

But the trusted alliance that Melissa had with the prior manager dissolved when he notified the lady of his retirement, moving away with his family to a small farm in Indiana. The replacement was a man named Jeremiah Williams, his junior by a few decades, and someone that the countess immediately disliked.

Jeremiah had the trademark signs of an ambitious young man who thought himself too clever - and it didn't take Melissa long to realize that the deal that existed before (and which had been so mutually beneficial) was now just a façade for a newcomer to use her art knowledge to test the value of his findings. He would visit the brunette, discuss prices and then leave - never to make contact again or to just vaguely mention they had been sold to someone else if there was a follow up call.

That happened a few times, which was enough to frustrate Melissa - but when Jeremiah did it to one of Robert Lecter's paintings (which the woman was now keenly watching for on behalf of Hannibal, of course), that had been the last straw. As someone who had done her fair share of questionable things, the countess could excuse certain things - but not taking her for a fool in addition to blatant rudeness.

It was one of the first times that Melissa selected the victim and planned for mostly of the setting - Hannibal provided input and assistance, of course, but he was happy to let his companion take charge for that occasion. The countess was careful to create a different scenario for a potential 'assessment' - all communication was done through non-official means and burner phones, there was no paper trail associated to the meeting (considering that the painting Jeremiah had this time was stolen property - so no police could be made aware or be involved) and the location was not her home but a more removed storehouse used by the Melissa for shipments from Europe.

Jeremiah suspected nothing up to the point where he was forcefully hit from behind, losing consciousness and then coming around half an hour later while being securely tied to a chair. Melissa was dressed as she normally did underneath the protective suit made of plastic, a creation from the man standing right at her side and equally prepared for the next steps of the countess' plans. It was just the beginning: first, the woman questioned their victim for the name of the person who acquired the Lecter painting, smiling pleasantly when it was yielded among tears and pleas for mercy.

Then, the true lesson of that evening began - and Hannibal carefully tutored his partner to execute her vision perfectly. Melissa had wanted to leave behind a scene that alluded to theft, treason and shifted the blame to the organized crime lords who had been laundering money through Jeremiah's side hustle - so cutting his hands off seemed like a very historical reference to the ancient punishment applied to those who engaged into similar activities.

It was far from a perfect attempt - not being a surgeon herself meant that Melissa's abilities in dismembering someone were somewhat lacking, not to mention more painful for the victim. Hannibal was nonetheless a patient teacher, helping her get the severed limbs as desired and then moving to the next part where they strangled the man to death. It was a joint effort - the countess made a point of being a part to it, looking at the lifeless body later with nothing short of satisfaction.

Now Jeremiah would no longer be rude to either one of them, including Robert Lecter's legacy.

Over the next hours, they dragged the corpse to someplace else entirely and with no connection to the Forteguerri, hanging him from a tree after the deed was done and placing the severed hands around his neck for dramatic purposes. Hannibal had provided valuable assistance in that regard, sewing them to the rope in order to create the visuals of a man who had brought it upon himself and no one else to blame for the tragic fate.

But it was not all - a large chunk of skin was removed from his chest too, opening the way for certain organs to be harvested by Hannibal for later (a shame to let a good heart and liver go to waste, after all). There was a final touch from Melissa, which Hannibal also helped with - making the right incisions needed to leave 30 pieces of silver inside his stomach, adding a touch of religious symbolism.

By the time they had cleaned the scene and returned to Hannibal's home (simply because no servants meant no questions asked), they had managed to properly store the newly acquired meat, plant the false evidence tying the execution to an aggravated mobster who lost money with Jeremiah's dealings and then get to a long, pleasing bath. Melissa poured them some wine and brought it into the bathroom while they made sure to remove all traces of blood from one another, even if the plastic suits had kept most of it off their skin.

Still, the countess was not complaining - she trailed hands over her partner's body slowly and carefully, leaving a soft path of kisses once the flesh was properly cleansed. Between the soft music playing from the bedroom, the candles around the tub and the sips from the lightly chilled bordeaux, it had been a perfect evening out - and it showed in how Melissa sighed contently while leaning against Hannibal's chest, resting inside the tub with him.

After the washing was done, they just sat in the warm water to enjoy each other's company - and among the commentary for the particular performance of the orchestra that was playing or the food that would have paired well with their drink, Hannibal's left hand moved over Melissa's wet skin. At first it seemed to have no purpose - but he slowly worked with her like clay on his lap, obtaining access to the neck for a light scraping done with teeth (which quickly turned into a smile when a moan was offered in reply).

"How do you feel, my dear?"

"Elated," the word came easy enough, carrying a distinct dream-like edge to it; it did not stop Hannibal from humming in acknowledgement, allowing his hand to travel further, finding a breast and idly massaging it while he spoke against Melissa's flesh.

"Anything else?"

"Hungry," the woman added like an afterthought, stirring in his grip and pressing herself back into the taut muscles of Hannibal's chest. Melissa's legs stretched into the open space of the tub before bending knees and bringing them up, over the water - and it allowed the pair to grow more aware of the subtle changes to their own bodies in relation to the teasing touches and topic of conversation.

"And what are you in the mood for?" the doctor queried again, although the answer was painfully obvious. It was true that Melissa genuinely worked up an appetite after their killings (something that had surprised and amused the lady herself); but Hannibal's fingers continued south, sliding further inward over the closest thigh before reaching for the middle of her legs, probing lightly before making a definitive move.

"You, of course," the countess replied with a breathy laugh, head falling backwards to his shoulder and shedding any notion of self-protection. Melissa was a willing offering, taking the first curious digit in with a delighted sigh and enjoying very much the building pressure against her back - the material evidence of their foreplay affecting not just the woman, but Hannibal as well, "Nothing else is as divine as you are, carissimo."