#dtperez

[crimewrought]

i know you think you have to do things, but you don't. @dtperez.

ㅤ" anyone ever told you you're a touch tunnel visioned, ben? "

ㅤher words come with a smile, one that persists despite two raging detractors: the sobering melancholy that swells in her chest, and the brutish cold that roots them to where they stand. they'd gone to their usual haunt, drinks and furtive conversation taking them up to the bar's late closure. the time, maria thought, had been stealthy in its swift passing.

ㅤ" it's not that simple. never has been—never could be. " she'd been studying benjamin's face closely, carefully watching the precise lilt of his brow, the life in his eyes not quelled by the surrounding dark; though maria is quick to yank her attention away when she speaks. she doesn't mince her words, doesn't hesitate to speak the cold reality—but she can't quite do it when looking at him, though.

ㅤ" there's no easy way my messes can change. you're gonna be stuck looking down that tunnel forever if you can't accept that, benjamin. "

[e1ght8all]

( BENJAMIN PEREZ ): I’VE HAD MORE THAN ENOUGH PAIN IN MY LIFE, WHAT’S A LITTLE MORE GOING TO DO? something strange happens after ben speaks. something that hasn't happened in a long time, since julian can remember ( maybe even before they had became julian reeves ; when their life still had some sort of humor in it, and wasn't an all out tragedy ). a laugh escapes them. it's barely a chuckle ; barely anything at all. a breathy noise, one corner of their lips upturning as they shake their head. ' you don't even know what pain is until you get stitches, no numbing, ' luckily, looking at the cut at the side of his stomach, julian didn't think he needed them. but it did need to be taken care of, lest it get infected. should jules have found the man when they first met, bleeding and in need of assistance, they would have said not my job. unfortunately, the man had somehow gotten into their good graces, or at least far enough onto their good side that julian simply could not leave him to suffer. ' fuck happened, anyway? ' they ask after a moment, pouring rubbing alcohol onto a cloth, beginning to clean the area without warning. going by what he just said, he could handle it. @dtperez.

[thefixeraa]

s. @dtperez , liked for a starter .

" well obviously the plan was to ask politely , " she responds in a matter - of - fact sort of way . consider even for a moment that mia has always had the best intentions . however even with the best intentions , things can always go poorly ... the job should have been easy - an in and out sorta job . then ? THINGS GOT COMPLICATED , and so plan a , b all the way through fuckin' z went out of the damn window . if anything miss di salvo is a woman of meticulous planning . so if shit hits the fan and there's nothing else to do but improvise ? well ... it just means she must do something drastic . " i guess you can see how that all turned out , " a chuckle accents the last bit of that sentence , and even though it hurts to do so . HELL , a woman needs to find humor even in the most morbid moments .

mia grabs the bottom of her tee shirt ( it was stained with dirt , torn in the spot where a new injury had occurred . ) lifting it mid - way to expose her midriff , THERE WAS A MAKESHIFT BANDAGE - tapped to her was another's shirt which was stained with blood . " hey man , don't look at me like that alright ? i got what you needed , the job is done . now can you do me a favor and get me somethin' to fix myself up ? "

[batfall-a]

SOUND of TV as JEOPARDY! plays , the two of them sitting on couch as a pizza box is opened , and the smell fills the room. beside them are FIVE monitors , each displaying various parts of matches warehouse. the apartment that sits above it all is where he makes his temporary residence. leaning forward matches goes to grab a slice , the grease oozing upon cardboard box as that slice goes to slap onto a paper plate. reaches for napkins as he does away with the residue from pizza , and balls napkin.

it makes you wonder, doesn’t it? / @dtperez

perez interjects as the final round of jeopardy! is announced , the winners have totaled 1 million dollars. you can SEE the beads of sweat that accompany the brow of a contestant named 'ANDY GREEN' , the monitor ZOOMS as his face fills screen. ' wonder what ? ' BEFORE matches lifts pizza up , and takes a generous bite. the pizza SCALDING the roof of mouth as he makes no attempt to stop chewing. it's GOOD , while greasy it's still fucking delicious.

my eyes flicker to the monitor that shows my men. i watch them as they unload our recent lifted goods. i'll of course pay them for their time , and whatever money they would've received after the black market markup. these won't be sold , they'll be stored away in a place that only i know about. my eyes then quickly flitter back to the tv screen ( i've mastered the art of multitasking ) , keeping the conversation light , - friendly in formation.

they've been up for twelve hours , discussing evidence that remains littered upon the same coffee table where the pizza sits. matches finishes chewing as he then picks up another napkin to wipe the corners of mouth. ' how he's still sweating after 5 rounds of jeopardy ? - you think he'd be used to this ! ' chin nods towards tv as he then leans back slightly into leather couch (it sounds his shift) , and gestures with fingers , ' what category would you be best at ? '

[consumare]

( BENJAMIN PEREZ ): DON'T THINK TOO HARD ABOUT IT. he isn't. the way hannibal stared at the crime scene, the body in all of its lifeless glory, he supposed he could understand why ben thought he was. gaze is intent on the horrors that lay right in front of them, and as a consultant to the detective, it only made sense that all doctor lecter was doing was overthinking. his job in this scenario was to get into the mind of the killer. easy. for him, at least. but hannibal couldn't make it seem that way. there was always an act to be put on. it's theater, a performance, and doctor lecter understands the role from script to stage. seeming to come out of some sort of trance, hannibal glances at the detective, his features grave, nearly empathetic. ' i'm afraid that's my job, detective perez. thinking the way they think, ' quiet sigh leaves the doctor, eyes traveling from ben and back to the victim at hand. a bit sloppy, for hannibal's liking, but that's something he could push through in order to help solve this case. ' though this particular murder certainly has me thinking a bit more deeply, ' it's a sincere admission, for an entirely different reason than ben would think. @dtperez.

[engests]

        IT’S THE DARK that makes him comfortable enough to ask,   the low visibly and faint glow of the tv across from them that adeptly disguises his vulnerability.   its been eating away from him since they met,   the whole too good to be true feeling that sunk to the bottom of his gut every time they got alone together.   deep down he thinks he already knows the answer,   since hes played the scenario over and over again in his mind in some poor attempt to think through every possible reaction.   ultimately he tells himself,   that it wouldn’t be right to base everything off his own superstition.   that if he just asked then he wouldn't have to fight himself for a made up answer.   ‘   YOU NEVER ASK ABOUT IT        the house,   everything that happened.   ’   he expertly waits for the buzzing commercial to fill the void before he speaks again,   this time much slower.   ‘   WHY DON’T YOU ASK ABOUT IT?   ’ 

@dtperez​​ liked for a starter   /   ft. benjamín pérez.

[whitesuited]

the sunlight that filters in through her blinds is a familiar thing for her to wake up to ——- she has a bad habit of forgetting to close them before she falls into bed at night only to be rudely reminded of it the next morning. ( yet she never truly learns ------- it's become just another part of her morning routine now. ) and while the light in her eyes is expected, the slow, sleepy realization that she’s not the only one in her bed ---- the arm that isn’t hers draped across her waist is a very helpful clue ---- requires a few moments spent actively attempting to wake up in order to process it fully.

an attempt to stifle a drawn - out yawn is made into her pillow as she remembers that @dtperez had ended up staying the night after a few rounds of gentle insistence on her part ( and maybe a little more whisky than she was used to to help her rustle up the courage. ) she can feel his breath on the back of her neck when he exhales ---- too steady and even for him to be awake just yet.

she takes the opportunity to slowly roll from one side to the other, mindful not to move his hand from where it rests on her hip too much in the process, and getting to sneak a peek at him sleeping as her reward. ( there's much less stress on his face when he's sleeping --------- no furrowed brow, no weight on those shoulders. it's a nice change from what she's used to seeing. ) despite enjoying this newfound view, she shifts a little bit closer --------- her lips lazily catching the side of his neck before his jaw becomes the second landing spot for another attempt at waking him.

"g'mornin'," she hums against his lips when he starts to stir, a bed - warm smile settling on her face while she waits for him to come to the same realization she had a few minutes earlier. there's no apology for waking him up ( truth be told both of them, unfortunately, need to be up and at work sooner rather than later ); she's sure he's going to understand her reasoning soon enough. "if i go jump in the shower, you wanna come with me?"

[doctordonovan]

❝ you look like you've got something to say. ❞

quiet observation is her nature:   it's all she's ever truly known.  it never seems to stop,  world constantly spinning around her,  maeve constantly keeping her wordless notes on what burns and what doesn't.  ( yet hot mug is cradled between hands,  leaning against wall,  nothing about her demanding any kind of attention.  )    what was it bobby used to say?  if there was ever going to be someone capable of willing themselves invisible,  it would be her.  and most of the time...  it worked perfectly fine. 

❝ whom, me,  @dtperez? ❞   mock innocence comes mostly jokingly,   raising dark eyebrows and taking sip of tea within.  there's always plenty to say  -   it's just not in her nature to break silence unless she views it as entirely necessary or the information useful enough to be worth it.  ❝ don't worry.  it's nothing anyone wants to hear. ❞

[crimewrought]

why should i trust you? @dtperez.

ㅤit's an honest question, wasted on a dishonest recipient. it's nothing she can help, not really—that treacherous but essential impulse of warping truth into falsehood. it's survival instinct in some part, maria figures, and simple bad habit in another. " you could've asked me how i'm doing first, benjamín. " the words are a tad barbed, but her tone lacks any real venom; mostly, it's just good-natured mirth thrumming in her timbre. she hasn't bypassed the question entirely, though—maria studies the detective sidelong, mulling over his words, taking a sip of her drink to fill the long pause that builds. that familiar impulse rages inside, that knee-jerk instinct to lie, to tweak a truth into something just short of honest. in an uncanny display of perhaps strength, perhaps stupidity, maria stomps away the impulse, reaching inside herself to wrench out something utterly novel; honesty, or something desperately close to it.

ㅤ" i'm pretty sure you're halfway there to trusting me already, despite yourself. i'm not going to give you reasons to trust me. i don't want to be held liable for saying i'm worth your trust when i'm probably not. " greene shrugs, small smile unwithered beneath the dim bar lights. " unfortunately who you trust is your call. so—does my brutal honesty mean i make the cut? "

[stagstalked]

there's nothing we can do now.

❝ There's always something we can do, ❞ Will argues, ❝ I just can't see it. ❞ Why can't he see it ? It's usually so easy for him to see, to feel, but this case ... It just isn't coming to him the way it normally does. It's like their killer can't make up his mind, his thought process jumbled and warped, like static. Will can't get around it. His head hurts, trying to push through.

❝ I can't get a clear read on this guy, ❞ He admits, fatigue slumping his shoulders. His gift is the whole reason he's here, the reason he's valuable. If it won't work, what use is he ? ❝ But he's only human. He'll slip up, somehow, and we'll have him. ❞

[erythief]

she is a ballerina balanced on a knife.      red heels,    and cinnamon tongued,    and scarlet corrosion stitched to bone.   gorged herself on greed the moment it first drizzled into her mouth.    jowls gaping.    as starved as flowers yearned for rain.   devils for blood.    she knows better than this:    this hypnotic affection she had for the man opposite.    what villain crawled willingly between the teeth of their predators ?    a tragic one.    her smile cants all the higher.    this is well rehearsed.    a focus in the art of allure.    faux apathy spinning in the space behind her eyes.   " i did. however boring it was, "    clever.   cruel.    young god flirting with the precipice of convention.    " here i'd been hoping for a letter.   something romantic.   a little 'ps: burn after reading'. "    where does the game end ?   with death,   darling. 

she untwists her legs from where one had been delicately crossed over the other.    a portrait of a lady to mask the belly of a beast.    is always subconsciously aware of her values,   and lies,   and secrets as they exist under her tongue.    between the footholds of her spine and up against her guts.   the public servant and the snake.   how poetic.    i guess you never did know someone !   she traces her eyes over the safe house room like she's dissecting something alive.   " you could have at least decorated a little. "       as if imagining candles and treats in place of the cobwebs.    delights rather than dust.    but deep down she understood.    their tryst was a dangerous one already   —    especially when there was genuine affection involved.    an honest acknowledgment she was loathe to admit.   " i might feel less like a dirty, little secret that way. "

RE: @dtperez ' i take it you got my message '

[mntgomry]

*   —   @dtperez   said   ...   i    understand    how    you're    feeling   . 

rosalina    didn't    do    this    often    ...    she    wasn't    the    drinking    type    —    or    at    least    the    type    to    go    out    drinking    .    now    that    she    was    older    ,    not    in    her    early    20s    anymore    ,    she    much    preferred    staying    home    and    having    a    few    glasses    of    wine    .    however    ,    in    that    moment    ,    it    was    different    .    she    found    herself    in    a    bar    somewhere    ,    and    a    drink    in    front    of    her    .    she    didn't    like    beer    ,    so    instead    she    found    herself    sipping    a    sweet    mixed    drink    .    the    weight    of    guilt    was    weighing    on    her    shoulders    —    the    guilt    of    losing    a    case    .    she    felt    ashamed    ,    embarrassed    even    .    she    knew    this    wasn't    the    first    time    it'd    happened    ,    but    she    felt    as    though    she    should    have    done    more    ,    she    should    have    worked    harder    .    she'd    found    solace    in    the    man    next    to    her    (    she    probably    shouldn't    be    venting    to    a    stranger    )    but    here    she    was    ,    a    little    under    the    influence    ,    spilling    the    beans    of    her    burden    .    "    do    you    really    though    ?    "    question    is    waved    around    ,    she    didn't    know    him    ...    she    didn't    know    his    story    —    but    she    felt    so    pathetic    in    that    moment    she    wasn't    sure    anyone    could    get    it    .    

[consumare]

BEN PEREZ: WHEN WERE YOU GOING TO TELL ME THE TRUTH? 'when you were prepared to hear it,' there is nothing but honesty is his tone, hannibal glancing over ben's features, drinking in his hurt and confliction and anger. lying is an inherently human trait. hannibal had become the master of omission, and he can only assume that detective perez was mad at himself for not seeing the signs. or, perhaps even refusing to see them, after their relationship had gone so far. doctor lecter stands in front of ben, the truth like a wall between them, built higher and higher by ben's hand. and yet, he doesn't leave. not yet. hannibal tilts his head, gives the man a knowing stare. 'i question, even now, whether you were ready to hear it, but you've come to know me as most others have not,' hannibal take a breath, knowing everything has changed, and nothing has. 'it is your choice alone to decide what happens next,' @dtperez.

[whitesuited]

📸 𝙿𝙷𝙾𝚃𝙾𝙶𝚁𝙰𝙿𝙷𝚈 𝙰𝚂 𝙰 𝚁𝙴𝚂𝙴𝙰𝚁𝙲𝙷 𝙼𝙴𝚃𝙷𝙾𝙳 𝟹 -𝟻 𝙿𝙷𝙾𝚃𝙾𝚂 𝚃𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝚂𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙾𝙽 𝙷𝙰𝚂 𝙾𝙵 @dtperez.

𝙵𝙸𝙶 𝙰. -- sharon and her newfound appreciation for benjamín whisky.

𝙵𝙸𝙶 𝙱. -- image from one of their many "ten minute" hangouts by the station.

𝙵𝙸𝙶 𝙲. -- both of them are supposed to be working but someone's slacking. ( spoiler : it's her. )

𝙵𝙸𝙶 𝙳. -- it was, in fact, a date.

[doctordonovan]

❝ I think you’d better take a break. ❞

once she starts working,   once focus is fully and entirely laser focussed on a problem...  it's all too easy for time to be lost to her.  an endless thing determined to slip between her fingers  -  taking advantage of how clever mind is incapable of stepping back from a problem no matter how it consumes her.   yet there's line forming under her eyes,   already quiet nature bubbling down to barely a word in past hour as she flicks through already memorised file.

❝ I can go a while still,  @dtperez. ❞   it sounds almost like concern,  something profiler is not entirely used to even from own team these days.  ❝ but if it comforts you,  I promise to go grab a large coffee in a minute or two.  how does that sound,  compromise wise? ❞   there's a pinch of humour all the same:  trying to lighten air as she throws him small hint of smile.  ❝ don't worry,  I'm just reading,  not working on anything I might mess up.  all in the spirit of cooperation and all that. ❞

[ltw1dow]

re ( ... ) @dtperez " what was i supposed to do ? "

placidity   —       gone.     consumed.    a   tempest   brewing   on   the   sidelines.         it's   always   been   her   color:     rage   ;     ferocity   contained   to   crossed   arms,  a   taut   jaw,         and   a   stance   that   gives   the   appearance   of   immovability.   the   infamous   black   widow   !        she   trusted   him     (   but   knew   better   )     learned   a   long   time   ago   that   the   only   one   you   should   ever   really   trust   is   yourself.     and   yet    (   …   )      she   holds   her   tongue   a   moment.      feels   the   longevity   of   it   behind   her   teeth   and   in   the   back   of   her   throat.         a   rotting   sore   in   her   gut.         she   swallows   thick,      pacing   a   half   circle   from   where   she'd   stood   in   front   of   him   to   some   other   innocuous   spot   in   the   room.     every   movement   measured.    deliberate.       a   spider   on   her   string.         and   you   ?     detective,     determined,      dangerous.         the   two   of   them:      quite   a   pair.     "   listening   to   me   would   be   a   start,   "       despite   her   annoyance,      her   tone   remains   rather   stiff.         the   steady   hand   of   a   gun. inhale      (   …   )      exhale.     her   shoulders   drop   in   the   slightest   —        a   subtle   release   of   energy.     of   the   upset   curdling   in   her   belly.      a   fiercer   determination   roots   in   its   place.      personality   static   in   the   empty   room.   "   i   can   handle   it   from   here.   "