#hannibal was on so i chose to engage with it

[cartsandhorses]

Franklyn’s introduction being “please” and Jack mistaking him for Hannibal…

[k-s-morgan]

Hi! I have another question about Hannibal.

Actually, I have several of them, but it's probably hard for you to answer many at once.

Where do you think Hannibal took Will after they left the Ufizzi Gallery? Hannibal took him straight to Soliato to kill him there? After all, he had everything ready there by that time. I'm just wondering what he would have done if Will hadn't pulled out the knife. Would they walk around Florence? Would Hannibal have deliberately dragged his time to be stopped?

The decision to kill Will seems to have already been made, but if Will had behaved sweetly, like a truly forgiving person, would Hannibal have killed him?

Hello again!

Yes, Hannibal definitely took Will straight to Soliato's apartment - Will was hurt as soon as they walked out of the gallery, and we can see that he was increasingly in pain, with Hannibal rushing to take care of his wound. Also, how interesting it is that Chiyoh chose to deliver a non-lethal shot? She's crept out by Will, she cares about Hannibal and sees that Will is about to attack him, yet she still decides against killing him. Because even without seeing them interact, she knows how much Hannibal must love him: Will’s appearance in Lithuania confirmed it to her.

Initially, in the script, Hannibal also had to have a knife that he had to pull out. I’m glad this didn't happen because I feel like it would be OOC. Hannibal is never the first one to attack Will - even in S1, when their relationship is at its developing vague stages, Hannibal is pushed to frame him only after Will refuses to listen and endangers him. This pattern of behavior is repeated over and over again, so I don’t see why Dolce would be different. And while he was expecting the possibility of being attacked, I doubt Hannibal would engage in a knife fight with Will, this wouldn’t be their style.

I agree with Mads, who said this:

If Will were to see and join Hannibal in Dolce, Hannibal wouldn't have attacked him. At that moment, he felt desperate.

Hannibal might have anticipated that something would go wrong with Will, preparing for his murder in advance, but I don't think he was dedicated to this idea, not at all. If Will accepted him, them, then yes, I believe they would have walked around Florence, talking and planning, at first hesitantly, then more boldly. They would have probably ended up running away together, and who knows, maybe things would have worked out for them even at that stage.

But Will pulled out the knife. I don’t think he’d have succeeded in killing Hannibal - I always read this as his half-suicidal attempt, but to Hannibal, it was another confirmation that they have no future because Will cannot accept them. He felt desperate, like Mads said - he felt like he can’t let Will go, that he needs him in any way he can have him, even if it means killing and consuming him, like he did with Misha.

[jajabenedykta]

I'm sorry but Hannibal and Willl both CHOSE to engage in whatever the fuck it was that they had. It was a fucked up but equal relationship.

Unlike Jesus and Judas, where one of them was literally The Son of God. Whatever you say about Judas, the truth is Jesus was always above and in charge of everything.

In Matthew 26:24 he even says "The Son of Man will go just as it is written about him. But woe to that man who betrays the Son of Man! It would be better for him if he had not been born" And he was right! It would be better for Judas, because he was doomed by the narrative and everyone sees him as a traitor, even long after his death. He knew that that's what was going to happen and he still did what Jesus had told him to.

John 13: 19 “I am telling you now before it happens, so that when it does happen you will believe that I am who I am.  20 Very truly I tell you, whoever accepts anyone I send accepts me; and whoever accepts me accepts the one who sent me.” 21 After he had said this, Jesus was troubled in spirit and testified, “Very truly I tell you, one of you is going to betray me.” 22 His disciples stared at one another, at a loss to know which of them he meant. 23 One of them, the disciple whom Jesus loved, was reclining next to him. 24 Simon Peter motioned to this disciple and said, “Ask him which one he means.” 25 Leaning back against Jesus, he asked him, “Lord, who is it?” 26 Jesus answered, “It is the one to whom I will give this piece of bread when I have dipped it in the dish.” Then, dipping the piece of bread, he gave it to Judas, the son of Simon Iscariot. 27 As soon as Judas took the bread, Satan entered into him. So Jesus told him, “What you are about to do, do quickly.” 28 But no one at the meal understood why Jesus said this to him. 

I refuse to believe Judas betrayed Jesus for money, since they offered it to him after the fact, and he gave it back as soon as Jesus was arrested, and then he'd gone and killed himself. Classic toxic homoerotic devotion. Judas is the real victim.

Which betrayal was worse?

[mostly-hannibal-memes]

Hannibal Fic Recommendation List - Season 1

Season 1 fics

Back to Overview

Acidulated by emungere, AmSE Will asks Hannibal out on a date. It's about as complicated as he expected it to be. Words: 1121 Chapters: 1/1 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Fiancé Fatality by USS_Hannigram (uss_hilson) Will learns that Hannibal’s become engaged to another man and is determined to do something about it! Words: 3,284 Chapters: 1/1 Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

The Substitute by Devereauxs_Disease When Hannibal tells Will he's sick, Will is skeptical. Before he knows it, he's laying in a hospital bed and being told he's going nowhere for two weeks. Will is distraught until Hannibal swoops in and offers to take over Will's courses at the FBI Academy. Will doesn't mind Hannibal showing up every night with a home-cooked meal, but he might just resent Hannibal becoming the most popular teacher at the Academy in just two weeks...Season 1 AU - if Hannibal wasn't such a MASSIVE dick. Words: 10,502 Chapters: 2/2 Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Sleepover by EarthsickWithoutYou Set in Season 1, after "Fromage." Will is still confused about his kiss with Alana and seeks romantic advice on how to date and be more "smooth" from Hannibal. Little does he know that Hannibal is madly, passionately obsessed with him, and desperately jealous. Needless to say, Dr. Lecter is all too happy to teach Will everything he knows about love and dating. Words: 70,082 Chapters: 13/13 Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

They made it for me by zombieboyband Alana wants Will. Will wants to want Alana. Will does not want to understand serial killers any more vividly than he already does. As ever, Hannibal has some suggestions. "I feel there is a high likelihood that you have not been entirely honest with me about your night terrors," Hannibal adds. "The true extent and depth of them." "Ding ding," Will says. "Would you say that your dreams when you are in the place of your killers have a sexual component?" Hannibal asks. OR: Will is manipulated into dirtytalking at Hannibal about the Ripper. Words: 8,844 Chapters: 1/1 Rating: Explicit Warnings: Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Intoxicant by Countlecterviii Hannibal takes his one day out to get trashed on various expensive Alcohol and Drugs and Will turns up, Hannibal is naturally submissive in this state. Based on a post seen on tumblr. Words: 1,404 Chapters: 1/1 Rating: Explicit Warnings: Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Sex Therapy by USS_Hannigram (uss_hilson) Will & Alana are scheduled to go away for a long weekend, but Will is afraid he won’t perform because he hates being touched so he asks Hannibal for some special therapy. Words: 7,678 Chapters: 1/1 Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Feral Twink by trashbambi “I feel the need to card him.” Zeller stage whispered to Price, who elbowed him in the side though was clearly amused.“Ok what? Is it because I shaved my beard off? I know I look a bit younger without it but really, It’s not that drastic,” Will told them, getting annoyed at the attention.“You look like a feral twink.” Beverly said and Zeller lost it, bursting into laughter as he bent over one of the empty examination tables for support. Will threw him a disgruntled look. Words: 2,871 Chapters: 1/1 Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

get over that hold out by amare Will's obligated to attend the annual BAU Christmas party. Katz wants him to feel like part of the team, Jack's just trying to indulge his wife, Price is going for the open bar--and Will knows there's no way Dr. Lecter would be caught dead at such a black-tie travesty. Words: 9256 Chapters: 1/1 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

let's hate what our love makes us do by deadratz Hannibal Lecter's patient, Franklyn Froideveaux, has been making unwanted advances towards Hannibal. Hannibal enlists the help of Will Graham to get Franklyn to back off. And because he may be kind of in love with Will. - Takes place during Season 1, mostly Episodes Sorbet&Fromage Words: 22,250 Chapters: 7/7 Rating: Mature Warnings: Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings

And So I Raise Me Up From Sleep by bendingsignpost Will should call Hannibal and ask for the last time Hannibal saw him. Except that isn’t exactly a landmine Will’s ready to walk over just yet. No, he should call Alana, but nothing says I want to be your stable boyfriend like I’m either hallucinating or sleeping with someone else. Words: 10,941 Chapters: 1/1 Rating: Explicit Warnings: Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Teach Me Tonight by sourweather Will Graham is...not exactly a Good Kisser. He's not a Bad Kisser, but he could definitely benefit from some lessons.And Hannibal is good at just about everything, so why would this be any exception? Words: 6,944 Chapters: 1/1 Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

All Booked Up (Thanks, Sasquatch!) by USS_Hannigram (uss_hilson) Hannibal & Will go out to visit Garrett Jacob Hobbs’ cabin, but their accommodations are bungled due to a local Bigfoot convention. Words: 3,843 Chapters: 1/1 Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

String Quartet Op.59 No.1 by DarkmoonSigel Will has to go to a FBI function cause Jack guilt trips him into it, so Will ends up bringing Hannibal with him. The truth comes out on the dance floor. Words: 6115 Chapters: 1/1 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Sandpaper by BonesAndScales Will did not trust himself with love. Love was never safe in his mind, too easy to corrupt, and then impossible to cleanse. The tendrils of his innermost desires—his innermost fears—wrapped themselves around it, slithered into its core and coloured it with violence, a drop of ink fallen in clear water. In which Will is a repressed sadist, and Hannibal is Interested. Words: 4,901 Chapters: 1/1 Rating: Explicit Warnings: Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Entangled by rodabonor There are times when Will lies awake at night and imagines going out to find someone who will touch him, even just for the night, but he knows it wouldn’t end well. Every human connection plays out like a crime scene to him and he can’t help but treat the living like the dead. Their eyes bare secrets that aren’t for him to know. So he stays home, and he stays alone. Will suffers from touch deprivation. Hannibal finds out and decides to help. Words: 6,164 Chapters: 1/1 Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

F.W.B. by AVegetarianCannibal Will misinterprets Hannibal's suggestion and ends up with his pants around his ankles. Can Hannibal help him understand? Words: 1,384 Chapters: 1/1 Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Not In The Stars by DarkmoonSigel Another different first meeting AU. Everyone keeps meeting Will Graham except Hannibal who makes unhappy cannibal noises about it. Words: 3400 Chapters: 1/1 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Some parts rotten by lecterova Hannibal is forced to reveal the truth of Will's encephalitis diagnosis sooner than he expected when it suddenly escalates into a medical emergency. However, he's not one to be discouraged, whatever events unfold; his plans are bound to go back on track one way or the other. An AU of season 1 with a suffering Will and an obsessed Hannibal. Words: 24,344 Chapters: 9/? Rating: Explicit Warnings: Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings

[darling-i-read-it]

Naka-Choko

2x10 

Hannibal Lecter x reader x Will Graham 

Hannibal Re-Write Series Masterlist

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: spoilers for hannibal, murder, dead bodies, smut pretty much i go there a bit btu it’s not super graphic, threesomes, will being hot as fuck 

Author’s Note: I spent like this whole season being like ‘do i make the reader sleep with hannibal while will sleeps with margot’ ‘does will not sleep with margot?’ ‘does margot sleep with hannibal?’ and this is the product. I’m not quite sure about it but enough of you were wishing for a little more on Will’s reunion so I did it, I hope you guys enjoy! Ps: I love the sexuality of the reader kinda open, if she engages and such so you can imagine whatever you please!

I used some direct quotes from the script so some things may seem familiar 

Official Episode Summary :Will's readiness to go to dark places strengthens his bond with Hannibal -- and garners Jack's attention; Hannibal gives Margot advice about her brother's violent nature.

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director 

Tag List (is always open!) : @llperfectsymmetryll​ @ericacactus​ @vlightning95​

(not my gif)  (last three gifs are from @/rocktheholygrail)

` The house was still as Will backed up. He held his gun in his hand and you were on the ground beside him. You saw clearly as the window was breaking, shattered all over the ground as the suspect of the last crime scene you had been to in his robotic animal suit. 

He attacked Will and you stood up quickly but Will had tossed the gun. You grabbed it off the ground, the dogs behind you growling and barking. Will started to beat the guy to a bloody pulp and you realized suddenly, in the rush of adrenaline why he had tossed the gun. He felt like this needed to be personal. 

Will continued to beat him and you grabbed Will from behind. He glanced at you but only for a second as you leaned down, holding the man's hands down as Will stood up a bit before grabbing his neck again and snapping it. 

Both you and Will had blood all over you. It had sprayed all over your faces and clothes as you leaned over the dead body. You grabbed Will’s arm and he looked over at you, surprised for a moment that you also had blood on you. 

Not a murderer but a murder accomplince. Same difference

You just stared at each other for a moment and you let out a small sigh. You looked down at the lifeless body underneath your boyfriend.

“Did that feel good?” you whispered. Will whipped some blood off your face with his hand which forced you to look back at him. The blood only smudged. He leaned forward and kissed you.

-

Hannibal’s. 

You sat at his dinner table, Will stood at the head, Hannibal at the other head. The body in the middle.

“Consider it an act of reciprocity. One positive action begets another,” Hannibal said simply.

“Polite society normally puts such taboos on taking a life,” Will said cheekily. 

“Without death, we’d be at a loss. It’s the prospect of death that drives us to greatness,” Hannibal said. He looked over at you and then back at Will. He smiled a bit, almost proud to see the two of you in front of him. “Did you kill him together? With your hands?” 

Will held up his hands, bruised and bloodied. You would have washed them for him if you hadn’t gotten so busy. 

“It was very intimate,” he muttered and Hannibal wasn’t sure if he was referring to you and Will or the two of you and Randall Tier.

-

Will’s hands submerged under warm water. You sat on the counter beside where the boys stood, Hannibal washing over Will’s hands with some epsom salts. The water tinged pink. Will was staring absently as Hannibal treated his wounds. 

“Don't go inside, Will. You’ll want to retreat, you’ll want it as we want to jump from balconies, as the glint of the rails tempts us when we hear the approaching train,” Hannibal muttered. He applied a salve to the cuts and bruises. “Stay with us.” 

Will looked up at the both of you.

“Where else am I going to go?” Will whispered.

“You can go anywhere,” you whispered. Will and Hannibal looked at you. Hannibal was more surprised than Will at how you were handling this. When you killed the judge you were a shock filled crying mess. You were a hollow shell of the person he knew for a few days. This was so different from how you were then. 

Perhaps it was because you were with Will, your person. Perhaps you had just embraced yourself now. Either way, he liked it. 

“You should be quite pleased. I am,” Hannibal said. 

“Of course you are,” Will muttered. 

-

The BAU stared at the disembodied body of Randall Tier. You, Hannibal and Will all looked at it simply, hands shoved in pockets. Jack was there as well although he didn’t know quite as much as you three did. To an extent. 

“His killer chose not to dispose of his body, but to display it,” Jack inquired.

“A jarring reminder of deaths’ informality,” Hannibal muttered, looking it up and down.

“Randall Tier was denied a respectable end that he himself denied others,” Jack stated and he was right, in a sense. 

“Dissection is disgrace. This is humiliation, a final indignity,” Hannibal said. 

“He isn't mocking him,” you said.

“This isn’t disdain. He’s commemorating him,” Will finished.

“This killer had no fear for the consequences of what he’s done,” Hannibal said, eyeing the two of you.

“No guilt,” Will whispered and you looked at him. He was right. 

-

You and Will walked into the room where Freddie Lounds was residing. She had pinned up pictures on the wall with notebook paper beside them. Pictures of Will she had taken, pictures of you that you didn’t even know she had taken. One when you were at the observatory with Will, one when Will was arrested and you were hugging Hannibal. 

“I raised the ante on my publishing deal. There’s been movie interest. Hollywood is a fine place for the obnoxious and wealthy,” she stated. 

“You’re not wealthy Freddie,” Will quipped.

“I will be. I’m a pariah among journalists because I took a different faith. But I’m putting that faith in you Will.” 

“Let’s talk Chesapeake Ripper. Frederick Chilton. Who knew?” Freddie said as she put the record button on the recorder. 

“Who knew,” you muttered. 

“No one did. Nobody would. Not even you two and you’re both one for theories. You were both so certain the Chesapeake Ripper was Hannibal Lecter, so much so Will tried to kill him.” Will and you stayed close to each other.

“You neglected to say ‘allegedly’,” Will stated.

“No I didn’t.” She glanced over at you. “Dr. Lecter is your boss and your psychiatrist. What’s up with that?” she inquired. 

“I was wrong about him. That’s what’s up with that,” Will said calmly. 

“Maybe you were.” Freddie looked at you in the eyes and you wondered what she would say about you in her book about Will. “Maybe you weren’t.”

“Chilton was the Ripper,’ you said simply, despite not believing it. The recording beeped red.

“The Chesapeake Ripper had surgical skills Frederick Chilton did not.”

“They had the same profile,” Will said. 

“Except Dr. Chilton was a woeful surgeon. Dangerous, even. I’ve been chatting with his old medical school chums. They say he fled to psychiatry to avoid embarrassment.” Freddie was nothing if not thorough you had to give her that.

“Our story with the Chesapeake Ripper already has an ending Freddie,” you told her.

“Mine doesn’t. Do you really think Dr. Chilton killed Abigail Hobbs? I don’t. Even if I let this story go, i’ll never let that go.”

Will was silent. You were silent.

“Trust me, Freddie,” Will said after a moment. “Neither will we.” 

-

Alana and Hannibal sat on the bed together. Her fingers danced in front of her but she winced at the sounds that she was making. The theremin was unfortunate and nothing she would have tried had she not met Hannibal Lecter when she did.

“Sounds like I’m killing it,” she said laughing a bit. His hand laid on Alana’s arm, attempting to guard her. 

“Don’t kill it,” he whispered back at her. 

He straddled her. “A theremin is an instrument which can create exquisite music without ever needing to be touched. But it requires a rare gift of perfect pitch to play properly.” He smiled. “Smaller movements. Feel the vibration move through you.” 

“Like composing in thin air,” she whispered. 

-

You and Will were at home. You sat in bed together, your head resting on his lower legs as you looked up at him. He was touching your calves with his fingers, causing you to let out small sighs of pleasure. You swirled a half empty bottle of wine. Will took it from your hands and finished it off. 

Despite the blanket on top of you the fact that you were naked made Will smile. It made him want to lean forward and run his fingers through your hair. To take you back into his arms despite the fact you had only left them a few minutes before. You were resting now. Who knew a joint murder could bring a couple so close together. 

“What do you think Hannibal is doing?” he whispered. 

“Best guess?” He nodded. “Sleeping with Alana.” Will let out a chuckle.

“That’s a thing?” You nodded.

“I haven’t told you? Yeah when he couldn’t get me in bed he got her.” He smiled and gripped your arm that was dangling at his side. He played with your fingers.

“I’m proud that you’re not as easy as Alana.”

“Hey, I love Alana. She knows what she wants.” The doorbell rang and you glanced at each other. “Perhaps that’s Hannibal. Maybe he was listening,” you teased. Will rolled his eyes and slipped out of bed. He grabbed his boxers and put them on before grabbing his robe. 

You watched him leave the bedroom and then got up, wrapping the sheet around you tightly. Voices floated to your ears from the main rooms. 

“What happened to your window?” Margot Verger asked. 

“Stag lost in the storm. Came through the window. Got a few scratches getting him out,” Will said. 

“I handled most of it,” you teased as you walked into the room. She saw you and raised an eyebrow. 

“Have I come at a bad time?” You and Will shared a look and you were just tired and hot enough to shrug.

“No, come on in,” you said with a smile. “Let me grab a robe.” You came back quickly and Marogt put her wine bottle on the counter. 

“Are either of you scarred?” she questioned. 

“More than I probably know,” Will said. Your breath caught in your throat as you thought about your fingers on those scars, not long before this. 

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” Margot said. You raised an eyebrow and Will looked over at you again. 

“I have the wrong parts for your proclivities, Margot,” Will muttered.

“It’s not about proclivities, it’s about trust,” she said. 

“It’s good to trust. Better not to,” Will said and his eyes were carefully on the both of you. He was a smart man but he wasn’t sure if he was gauging the situation correctly. 

“My optimal level of trust is usually zero. But I trust both of you,” she whispered. 

“I don't trust you,” Will said. 

“I don’t need either of you to trust me.” 

“What do you need then?” you questioned. She walked up to you and started to unbutton her shirt. You raised an eyebrow and your eyes went back to your boyfriend who just laughed a bit, shrugging. You turned to him and he started to take off the top of his robe. You weren’t wearing a bra or anything but you dropped it to your shoulders where you had a few scrapes from over the years. 

“Who shot you?” Margot asked Will.

“A friend.”

Margot put her fingers on your shoulder where there was a scrape from when you killed the judge. One of the only fighting back scars you had. 

She kissed you. She pulled away and she kissed Will.

A mess of kisses, hands, bodies. 

Hannibal kissed Alana and as he lay underneath him he saw you, arching your back and heaving. He kissed her but her hair was not hers it was yours. 

Will kissed you as he leaned into Margot. Your fingers touched hers, his hands cupping your face, inside her. Bodies. Breathing. Whispers, finishing. 

Hannibal's eyes flashing to yours from miles away. Will’s fingers on your back but arching against Margots. 

Finally you lay on your bed again, happily catching your breath. Will laid down beside you and Margot laid beside you.

Hannibal moved to his side in his own bed and instead of Alana he saw you and beside you, Will. 

The three of you fell asleep peacefully, Margot and Alana leaving early in the morning.

-

You opened your eyes and met Will’s already open. You rubbed your vision to be clearer and gave him a droopy, slightly hungover smile. Then you turned to a curious look of confusion.

“Did we have sex with Margot Verger?” you questioned. Will laughed and nodded.

“I believe we did.” You looked up at the ceiling and then back at him.

“Who are we?” you asked, chuckling heartily. He shrugged and draped an arm around you before burying his face in your neck. 

“I think the drinks may have helped a bit.” 

“Also, how did she find out where we live?” 

“She said she looked in Hannibal's things,” he said. You prused your lips.

“The ones I’m supposed to be watching?”

“Those are the ones.” 

You paused and then both of you laughed, holding each other for a moment more before you had to get up for the day.

-

You were walking beside Freddie Lounds. She had called you to chat one on one unfortunately.

“I’ve always admired teachers. Mouling impressionable young minds. But you can only learn so much and live,” she said. You let out an annoyed sigh. 

“What do you want Freddie? Your book is about Will, not me.” 

“You’re the tag team, you can’t expect me not to add you whenever I can. You’re pure gold. Staying with him through the whole thing, it’s very romantic. I mean come on, everyone calls you the Grahams which I’m sure pisses Hannibal off enough” she said simply. 

“If you want to hear about romance I suggest talking to Alana Bloom,” you said, eager to get the talk away from you. 

“I’ll make note of that,” she said. “But you know right? You believe him?” 

“Know what?” 

“Will was right about Lecter.” You gave her a smile and pursed your lips. 

“I believe my boyfriend,” you said and left it at that. 

-

You sat at dinner with Will, Alana and Hannibal. An interesting mix of people, considering it all. 

“Freddie Lounds thinks the three of you are a paradox. She sees something no one else sees,” Alana said. You wondered what Freddie had said to Alana about you. Likely nothing true although she was more observant than you sometimes gave her credit for. 

“What’s that?” Will asked.

“That none of you are the killer she’s writing about, but together, you might be.” 

“Freddie Lounds must consider you a bland interview subject if she’s already resorted to fiction,” Hannibal said to Will.

“She won’t be fenced in by something as malleable as the truth. Freddie has no boundaries,” you stated simply, taking a bite of the dinner. 

“A person with no boundaries is a psychopath. Or a journalist,” Wil countered. 

“Freddie isn’t the only one without boundaries. Your relationships doesn’t seem to know many. Patient, therapist, lover, friend, enemy,” Alana said. You suddenly wondered if she felt threatened by you and Will. You liked the idea of it.

“Crossing boundaries is different than violenating them,” Hannibal said. 

“Boundaries are always subject to negotiation. It’s just hard to know where you are with one another,” Alana shrugged.

“We know where we are with each other. Shouldn;’t that be enough?” Will said and you smiled wickedly. 

-

Freddie Lounds did not find you or Will in the house which she was hoping to. She needed an interview with both of you. She walked to the back of the house and to the shed back there, where perhaps the two of you ewre. 

Freddie walked forward and found very quickly the suit Randall Tier wore to kill people. She pulled out her camera and took a picture. In the shed she looked around wildly. 

Freddie looked up and saw that Will was standing there, walking toward her. She pulled out a gun and raised it to him.

“There really is a very good explanation for all of this,” he stated evenly.

“I don’t want to hear it,” she said shakily. 

“You’re not the least bit curious?” 

“Get away from the door,” she demanded.

“I can’t let you go, Freddie. Not without hearing what I have to say.” Freddie pulled out her phone. “I know you’re scared. Only have to be scared a little bit longer. Give me the gun.” She fired the gun and missed Will. Behind her you jump out, throwing the gun away and holding a hand over the mouth.

“I’ve wanted to do this since we met,” you hissed. She escaped your grasp and started to run out of the door, hitting call to Jack Crawford. 

-

You, Alana, Jack, Will and Hannibal all stood in Jack’s office. He had just shown off the concerning voicemail he had gotten from Freddie Lounds.

“Freddie Lounds left this message for me three hours ago. Her cell signal dead now. Last call was traced to the nearest phone tower. In Wolf Trap, Virginia. We have her on security cameras at a gas station, filling her car. Six miles from your farm,” Jack said to you and Will. 

“Freddie was supposed to interview me. She never showed up,” Will stated. 

“Why are you granting interviews to Freddie Lounds?” Jack asked.

“I owed her one,” Will explained. 

“SurelY Freddie Lounds has more enemies than Will,” Hannibal reasoned. 

“Not in Wolf Trap, Virginia.” 

“Will and I were busy all afternoon. Together,” you stated simply. “I think I would have noticed if he decided to kidnap Freddie Lounds. Unless you're insinuating both of us are at fault.” Jack gave you a look but you just crossed your arms. 

“We live in the middle of nowhere, Jack. If someone wanted to take her, it’d be a good place to do it.” 

-

You sat at dinner with Will and Hannibal. It was a peaceful dinner. It felt right. 

“The meat has an interesting flavor,” Hannibal said. “It’s bracing. Notes of citrus.”

“My palate isn’t as refined at yours,” Will stated. 

“Apart from humane considerations it’s more flavorful for animals to be stress-free prior to slaughter. This animal tastes frightened,” Hannibal explained. 

“What does ‘frightened’ taste like?” Will asked. 

“It’s acidic.” 

“The meat is bitter about being dead,” you pointed out. 

‘This meat isn’t pork,” Hannibal said.

“It’s long pig,” Will retired. You took a bite and so did Will. Hannibal watched, proud. “You can’t reduce me to a set of influences. I’m not the product of anything. I’ve given up good and evil for behaviorism,” Will said. 

“Then you can’t say that I’m evil and Y/N is good,” Hannibal said. 

“Y/N isn’t good. And you’re destructive. Same thing.” You took another bite with a cheeky smile on your face. 

“Evil's just destructive? Storms are evil, if it's that simple. And we have fire, and then there's hail. Underwriters lump it all under "Acts of God."” Hannibal smiled. “Is this meal an act of God, Will?”

2x11

[fatalism-and-villainy]

#!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#I had to read this twice to process it but oh my god it's so good#the dynamics between hannibal bedelia and will all make so much more sense now!!!#I am having so many thoughts#what I want to know is why bedelia even became a psychiatrist considering she clearly has so much disdain for vulnerability#lmao (via @a-pigeons-soliloquy)

First of all, thank you!

Secondly, I do have some off-the-cuff thoughts on why she might have become a psychiatrist.

For one thing, Bedelia likes control. Psychiatry allows for a huge amount of control over others - cf Will and Freddie's exchange about the professions that psychopaths are drawn to in Entrée. Bedelia strikes me as a person who needs to be the most stable, put-together person in the room, so she chose a profession that would give her that sense of power. (By contrast, with Hannibal in Florence, she's by far the less stable, centered person in that dynamic, which - although she's been aware to some degree of Hannibal's ability to destabilize her for awhile now - is a huge upset to what she's used to.)

For another, curiosity might be part of it. She seems to genuinely harbor interest in what Hannibal's deal is, especially at first, and I can see her being curious about people in the sort of dispassionate way that Hannibal is "curious" about what the effect of Will's encephalitis will be - i.e. emotionally detached intellectual interest without much concern attached to it.

I also think there's a potential lack of self-awareness attached to both of these points - some people in my notes have pointed out that Bedelia is kind of self-deceiving about how much she can tolerate or stomach, so I can easily see her going into the field without much awareness about how little tolerance she has for vulnerability, or how self-shattering engagement with it might be for her.

It also occurs to me writing this that status and image might have played into her career choice as well. We don't know anything about her background, but she seems very invested in presenting the most glamorous and put-together version of herself to the world, and I think the markers of class are part of that. A career in a prestigious field like medicine would be a means of doing so - and mental health in particular might appeal to her because it's less grisly than dealing with physical bodies (or at least would appear so to her).

I was thinking about the multiple contradictory narratives Bedelia spins about herself in s3 part 2 - the way her public story completely excises her agency in collaborating with Hannibal, while the version of events she presents to Will, in which she gloats about having been “beyond the veil” when he has not, also completely excises her ambivalence and fear towards Hannibal. (Like, she confidently presents a narrative to Will in which she shared the perfect understanding with Hannibal that he craves, and wherein she has embraced the violent impulses in a way that his compassion has impeded him from doing. And yet she spends so much of s3 part 1 positively radiating stress and discomfort. And that contrast is fascinating to me in itself.)

And then I started thinking about the bird metaphor.

Bedelia uses the wounded bird example to frame Will as being held back from being a true killer by his compassion and concern for the weak. But in reality, it represents the appeal that violence holds for both of them. Will’s desire to protect the vulnerable is the source of not only his violent urges, but the pleasure he takes in hurting those who hurt others - this is most obvious in the social worker horse plot line, in which his care for Peter ignites his murderous anger towards Clark Ingram, and also comes through in his enjoyment of killing Randall Tier and his fantasies about killing Hannibal. The fundamental tension in his character arc - whether the righteous anger he feels for the vulnerable will overwhelm his compassion, such that the pleasure of violence swallows up its initial motivation - is reflected in the fact that many of the killers he can identify with do feel a kind of twisted compassion for their victims. Garett Jacob Hobbs, for example, his identification with whom Will struggles with considerably, is said to “love” his victims. For Hannibal himself, violence and love are also incredibly bound up.

Bedelia is different. Her desire to crush the bird tends to manifest as a sort of twisted mercy killing, as with Neal Frank and Sogliato. (Interestingly, her and Will’s violent impulses, at least on a surface level, feel like an extreme and twisted reflection of their professions - Will’s job is to bring justice, and hers is to provide medical care). Hannibal knows this about her, and explicitly sets her up to kill Sogliato (“technically, you killed him”). He knew she would flinch at his suffering and need to squelch it out. And while it’s not stated one way or another, it’s entirely possible (perhaps probable) that he purposely set her up with Neal Frank, because he was curious what she would do.

(In Tome-wan, Hannibal tries to push Will to mercy kill Mason Verger in the same way during the “he fed his face to my dogs” scene, possibly working from his experiences with Bedelia - but of course Will’s not built that way.)

The thing with Bedelia’s mercy killing, though, is that despite her being the one to voice the line about compassion being necessary for cruelty, her motivation seems to be nearly devoid of compassion. Rather, my reading is that she operates more from discomfort, and disgust. She’s repelled by weakness and suffering. When she sees a wounded bird, she wants to get rid of it, crush out its suffering so she doesn’t have to look anymore. That doesn’t mean she doesn’t get genuine pleasure from the violence, but the violence we see from her feels reactive.

And that’s possibly the biggest difference between her and Hannibal, and the source of the gulf between them. Because Hannibal relishes vulnerability. See the way he affectionately rubs his head against Miriam Lass’ as he chokes her unconscious, the way he keeps Gideon alive for an extended period of time so he can experience Hannibal’s work, the way he treats Bedelia herself with care despite their both knowing he’s working up towards eating her. It’s not just about the kill for Hannibal - it’s drawing the victim’s reactions out and enjoying the thrill of power he has over them, and it’s a process that in many cases seems to instill a strange, twisted tenderness in him.

This brings me back to Will and the wounded bird, because his desire to “help” the bird doesn’t just extend towards his penchant for violent punitive justice - it’s also the way he comes to see killing itself as a way of honouring the victims by making them into art. He wants to linger with their vulnerability, spool it out and spin it into something beautiful, and it’s through this that he can connect with Hannibal. But can you imagine Bedelia stopping to turn Chiyoh’s prisoner into a sculpture? Of course not. She can’t linger with her victims after their deaths - she panics after killing Neal Frank, and is sickened by Hannibal’s actions in Antipasto. She can’t see the artistry in death the way Will and Hannibal can. Violence compels her, but pain and suffering are ugly to her. To Will and Hannibal, they’re beautiful.

[toobusybeingdelulu]

Do you aver think about the fact that Hannibal probably started comparing his and Will’s relationship to bella and jack’s at some point?

So, let me elaborate.

We remember that during the dinner scene with both of them, Jack starts talking about the way him and Bella fell in love in Italy. And we can almost see Hannibal becoming more and more interested in their relationship as time goes by, observing it and analyzing it during his sessions with Bella.

I think that, at some point in the show, he had started to associate the idealistic concept of true love to this couple.

This couple which was the proof that even an illness as cruel as cancer could not take them apart in the end. They were the definition of “I’ll love you, ‘till death takes us apart and even after that, I’ll still love you for the rest of my life”.

We know that Hannibal does engage in relationships. We know that he observes and assimilates everything worth remembering.

This is why I Think he chose Italy as a destination for his new life with Will and Abigail with with a specific memory in his mind: Italy had always been important to him, we know that, but I think that it became more important in the exact moment he started associating it with Jack and Bella’s love.

Their True, ideal, pure, selfless love. And with hope.

He thought of Bella and Jack falling in love in Italy, just as he hoped him and Will would in their newfound life. With their surrogate daughter. Together.

And then the betrayal happened.

Hannibal had still escaped to Italy.

Jack had followed shortly after, throwing his wedding ring into the water alongside Bella’s ashes. Just as Will and Hannibal had tried to kill each other.

There was no ideal love left. Only broken teacups and the ghosts of a “what if”.

[mahomoon]

I recently finished playing Greedfall for the second time, it’s an amazing game and I would gladly play it again! The story is great, the level design and the worldbuilding is awesome! if is filled with both beautiful and sublime scenes and the whole world of the game offers the perfect escape experience! I cannot find the words to express how fulfilling the experience of playing this game was! 

The characterizations are great and to a large degree in accordance with the world of the game and that makes the story even more interesting and engaging! Most of all I loved how De Sarde and Constantine were characterized. I loved their relationship and how they cared about each other, it was genuine and it had qualities that made it one of the memorable relationships that I have experienced in a work of fiction, and for this I am really thankful to the people who made this game, and especially those who wrote the story and the characters in such beautiful way!  but what I actually wanted to say here... was that as a fannibal, I had additional reasons to enjoy it even more! now bear with me as I hereby lay out how my mind makes connections regarding everything I love! (as a fannibal I sometimes see Hannibal in everything I love, if I can make that connection I will love that thing and enjoy the experience even more!) so here we go! 

The second facial preset for a male De Sardet gives you a facial structure very similar to that of Hugh Dancy’s, add a short stubble and change the hair style to something like this and you have a character very similar to Will Graham! here is a closer look:

I don’t know if it’s because of the shape of the eyes, the eyebrows, the cheeks, the jaw bone, the lips, the nose, or the ears (well basically everything!) but to me this looks like a videogame version of Hugh Dancy! 

Also, another connection I made was in how the two character of De Sardet and Constantine embrace each other (and the game is filled with those lovely embraces that are filled with care and support on the part of each of the two characters!) especially (spoilers if you haven’t played the game and are planning to do so) the one at the the end (one of the two endings), which is my favorite ending (and the one that makes more sense to me, since I know how De Sardet and Constantine cared about each other throughout the story! What I saw in their relationship would make me believe that at the time (when the choice is given to you to join or kill Constantine) De Sardet would say... “to hell with the old world and the new ones if my dearest cousin is not going to be in it! and to hell with all those who used and abused us, whether god or man. to hell with millennia of cycles that seem to only end in suffering and to hell with the gods who see the sufferings of people, hear their cries of agony, but would not bat an eye unless it is them who are threatened! I’m not gonna kill my dearest Constantine, whose only crime was being a victim to the whims of every mortal or immortal. who was just afraid of dying so soon, and in facing the cruelty of the world and its gods, he became as cruel as them. No, I would bind myself to him, and try to ease his suffering as I’ve always had. For he is my dearest one in the world, and I am his, and he still suffers...

so I chose this ending,

and it reminded me of this one,

so here I am, with two of my favorite things that have ended with these form of embraces, both are sad but beautiful, and I love it! I love what they represent, a form of love (not necessarily romantic in the case of the game) which is filled with support and caring, and it’s the most beautiful! a kind of “lean on me and nothing else in the world will matter, for now...”

[k-s-morgan]

What is your HC for Will’s mom and why she left? Or died? How come will knows so little about her and he never knew her

That’s a really interesting question! I feel like Will has a lot of resentment toward his family, but we know so little that it’s difficult to say whom it’s directed at. He doesn’t have much to say about his Mom, but he still deflects and is reluctant to share even the bare facts.

Hannibal: Tell me about your mother.

Instead of just explaining that she died/left, Will engages in deflective teasing.

Will: That’s some lazy psychiatry, Dr. Lecter. Low hanging fruit.

Hannibal: I suspect that fruit is on a high branch, very difficult to reach.

Will: So’s my mother. I never knew her.

He finally gives an answer, but once again, it doesn’t have even some basic facts. Neither Hannibal nor we as an audience know whether his Mom left, was killed, died by accident, disappeared without trace, etc. Will sounds... off here. Dismissive but tense, indifferent but bitter. Not sure if it’s about his Mom: if she left him and didn’t bother to contact him, this might explain his resentment. But maybe it’s about his Dad - maybe he just refused to discuss Will’s mother, so this is where Will’s bitterness comes from. 

In any case, Will clearly doesn’t have much fondness for his Dad.

Will: We were poor. I followed my father from the boat yards in Biloxi and Greenville to lake boats on Erie.

‘I followed my father’ versus ‘my father and I had to move’ - he sees himself as a reluctant follower. 

With so little info, it’s difficult for me to have a steady headcanon, but this is probably the scenario I stick to most: Will’s mother was alive but chose to left his father the moment Will was born. She wasn’t interested in maintaining contact with them. Will’s father spent the rest of his life trying to get over it and find a place where he would belong, constantly moving around and dragging Will with him. Will was a reminder of a person he loved, so he chose to raise him versus giving him up, but there was never any closeness between them and they never developed a bond.

Will is a selfish person with a low self-esteem, and I feel like this scenario could explain it, in addition to his character overall. He wants to be normal because he’s tired of being looked down on by everyone, which started back in his childhood where, as he himself admitted, he was poor and “always a stranger.” He is resentful at the idea of having a family because of his failed relationship with his parents, but deep down, he really wants it because he’s always been lonely. He doesn’t feel like he belongs anywhere because he never did, not even with his Dad. He wants something and someone he could call his because he never had it before: his Mom left him, so he doesn’t want even a memory of her; his dad always belonged to her, never to Will.

Obviously, this is just speculation! But this is approximately how I see it. I wish someone asked Bryan Fuller what’s his idea. 

[more-than-a-princess]

Chiaki Nanami, Sonia knew, had many virtues. Gaming aside (which was what most seemed to commend her for to begin with), she was staunchly kind without any other underlying agenda to be so. Chiaki's friendship was simply that: a friendship, never asking for anything or desiring anything other than friendship in return. It was why Sonia could smile sheepishly at her comment, instead of the pleasant, tight-lipped smile she reserved for use as the Princess of Novoselic, when she was not permitted to say what was truly on her mind in favor of proper etiquette. "I do not think I would be much of a princess if I did not at least try to understand others," She replied, drawing her knees up to her chest. She'd thrown one of the blankets in Chiaki's room over her lap, tucking in as she watched her friend guide the characters through the game with her help. "My life is, and forever will be, one of service to my people. And the confidence...well, even on days I do not feel it, the term 'fake it until you make it' rather applies. But truly, I am simply interested in the world and those who reside in it: I want to engage with it, learn more about it, and never stop doing so long after my school days are over."

It was expected by members of the Royal Family, but few truly embraced maintaining an innate sense of curiosity and learning. Still, there was plenty Chiaki was good at: bringing the entire 77-B class together, for one. No matter who anyone spoke to in 77-B, for all of their differences, if Chiaki Nanami needed them, they would be there. "That is part of it, yes," Sonia grinned as her friend selected her chosen option in the game. "So one is not uncomfortably full whilst socializing. But sometimes the food is intended to be part of the conversation: not unlike the video game themed cafes in Japan. Imagine, instead of a sit-down restaurant, guests were made to drift around the room and speak about games, and the food itself was small, in order to accommodate many different tastes but also presented in video game designs. Sometimes the small food is just like that at the parties I attend: artfully arranged in a heritage design, or heavily featuring local ingredients, so it is meant to be spoken about."

She listened then, nodding as Chiaki continued through the game as well as her knowledge of other horror games. Movies and games were two different mediums, but the resulting endings shared some similarities depending on the title. "Ooh, yes!" She agreed, partly to Chiaki's comment, partly due to the couple separating after the wife decided to bathe while the husband left in search of a shaving kit. "I do love the lore and the effects used for supernatural villains, but I do agree! Humans can be some of the most frightening villains of all in a horror tale. Such as the antagonists behind the traps in the Saw franchise, or the killers in home invasion films like Hush, or perhaps even classic characters like Norman Bates, Buffalo Bill, or Hannibal Lecter! It can be even more entertaining when the survivor of the first film is the first to die in the second, such as in Hostel. Very frightening indeed!"

She wasn't sure if Chiaki was familiar with the films she mentioned, but as she was not familiar with all of the games mentioned, Sonia supposed it evened out. Instead, she chose to focus on what they both could comment on in the moment: the game at hand, selecting for the woman to go investigate. For Sonia, it had been the right decision, as her eyes lit up at how the choice unfurled: the wife attacked and the husband being forced to watch it happen before attempting to flee and meeting his doom anyway.

"Oh, how exciting!" She exclaimed, chuckling as she kicked the blanket off. It had finally become too warm for her. "Clearly this must take place in America, in Chicago, at the famed 'Castle' run by H.H. Holmes. Did you know he was only convicted of one munder, Nanami-san? Though he confessed to several others and more were attributed to him after finding the remains of his victims. He was sentenced to hang but his neck did not snap, and-"

Chiaki, thankfully, would be saved by the very real knocking at her very real door. As enthusiastic as she was to share information about the real-life killer who made a fictional appearance in the game, Sonia couldn't ignore both her own stomach and how her best friend needed to eat. She always seemed to forget to eat. "I did! Plenty of it, in fact!" She replied, hopping off the sofa and making her way to the door. A greeting, a thank-you, and several plastic bags later that Sonia could barely hold on her own, she carefully made her way back to the sofa and the table beside it, where she deposited them. "We can pause for a meal, can we not, Nanami-san? There's donburi bowls, katsu, tempura and karaage, yakitori, udon, sushi, and a variety of side dishes. Much of it is fit for keeping in a refrigerator to be reheated, too! So it will not be an inconvenience to prepare whilst you are playing."

Perhaps there was a reason why Chiaki struggled with dating simulators as opposed to other action-oriented games. Many games are about repetition and learning the patterns until reaching the goals. For example, many people complain about how hard Ghouls ‘n Ghosts is and the fact you need to beat an already hard game one time and then finish it again in hard mode to attain the true ending (not forgetting to get a certain item along the way) – but if you have beaten the game once it means you are prepared for the next challenge and everything is nice and predictable. Even Tetris has some strategy, its “randomizer” actually have some tricks that will give you at least one version of every block every 13 or so pieces, which means that if you wait for the long tetromino all you need to do is to wait until it show up. Even the ghosts in Pac-Man have their own personalities and will act accordingly to it and if they are in chase, scatter or frightened mode. Chiaki knows all that and many other game behavior in a instinctual level, but to deal with social gatherings? There is hardly repetition, or a limited set of possibilities. Humans are very complicated, it is hard to figure out their repetition patterns and the way to reply to their behavior is equally infinite, unbound by the games’ rules. ❝ I admire you, Sonia-chan. You can understand people so well and you are so confident about it. ❞ Chiaki wasn’t afraid to admit it, her soft tone carrying a sincerity devoid of any envy or jealousy. Some people are just better than others in certain areas, and that’s ok. ❝ Oh, I see. So the smaller dishes means to make you happy while talking with people and not distract too much?  It makes sense, in a way it is like eating a snack while playing video games.❞ perhaps human behavior does follows a series of pre-set rules or at least some patterns she can grasp… But she certainly need a lot of help to understand that.

❝ Hmmmm… Not every time horror games have happy endings. ❞ Chiaki replied, doing the selections that Sonia instructed her – it wouldn’t take long until things start to become bad and Chiaki knew that in this part of the game the scope of the choices weren’t going to reflect in the title’s ending, it was mostly self-contained experience. The only difference was if the couple would be able to say goodbye before their gruesome demises ❝ Some people survive, but the press won’t believe in them and deem them as crazy or dangerous, or they would go insane. Sometimes the real monsters aren’t the supernatural entities, but the humans. Like… In Corpse Party some of the characters might survive and prevent the worst case scenario but in the end who died is simply erased from existence and no-one believes in the survivors. ❞ she mentioned that while the couple in the game was met to meet the hotel owner, H.H. Holmes himself, the first American serial killer. The game was in English, but the subtitles and choices were thankfully in Japanese so there wouldn’t be the language barrier for Chiaki; ❝ Or in Fatal Frame, when Mafuyu goes to find his university professors and friends and his little sister Miku is the one who needs to go save them all, but in the end she is the only survivor and ends up being taken in by one of her brother’s friends in Fatal Frame III. Nobody paid any attention to what she had to say, it was only a case of missing people that was never solved, even as Miku-chan saw and knew everything that happened and saw her brother sacrificing himself to prevent a bigger tragedy. ❞ The couple in the game engage in some banter and even a pillow fight when they are finally in their room, Chiaki kept doing the light-hearted tutorial….Until the couple gets separated, with the girl going to take a bath and the man decides to buy a shaving kit from the reception and narrowly evaded a spike pit! Once he realizes the danger, he rushes to try to save his wife. Still--- it would be all in vain. Given the option to relax or investigate, Chiaki looks at Sonia for the decision. In either case, the lady is attacked by the serial killer the only difference would be if she would be drowned in the tub or slashed and the husband walks in right when it happens! The husband tries to flee, only to attempt hiding in the room nearby committing a fatal mistake of walking right into another trap! It is gas chamber! If Sonia had the girl to relax, the poor husband keeps choking for air trying to reach out for his dead wife in the tub; but if she investigated, there is a small window separating both of them and the couple keep trying to reach out to one another until their consciousness end, the girl bleeding to death and the man unable to breath. The scene cuts with H. H. Holmes performing the finishing touches before the next victims arrive and the creepy violin sound cue plays as the killer says…

“Hello! Welcome to the World’s Fair Hotel.”

A knock in the door. The real-life door. ❝ Did you order delivery, Sonia-chan?  ❞

[questionablygourmet]

do you think on some level will knew about the attack on molly and walter but chose to do nothing? I mean hannibal gave him pretty big hints, telling him to close his eyes and ask if it's his family he sees, even telling him he's letting them die. I don't understand why will apparently didn't even tell them to tell him if anything happened to the dogs?? I don't want to believe will is that dark but the thought won't leave me lmao

No, I definitely do not.  I agree that it would have been possible for him to figure it out (heck, not through any great leaps of logic, even; “what if my family, though” would be a very normal fear to have), but I think it’s equally reasonable that he wouldn’t.  While perhaps a more paranoid person would anyway, he has no concrete reason to suspect Dolarhyde (or Hannibal, for that matter) knows his address, and consider how he’s used to thinking about these things: his family doesn’t actually fit Dolarhyde’s victim profile very well, especially without him there to die with them.  

I don't understand why will apparently didn't even tell them to tell him if anything happened to the dogs??

I mean, honestly because Dolarhyde needed to almost get them for The Plot.  xD  But also probably because there were already bulletins out at the vet offices; the detail about them having been swapped to canned food while Will was away unfortunately gave Molly (and the vet) an otherwise-plausible explanation for their illness.  (I don’t actually remember if that’s detail from the book or something the show added.  Either way, works well!)

There’s zero textual evidence that Will considers Dolarhyde’s family annihilations acceptable in any way, and ample evidence that he loves Molly and Walter and values their wellbeing.  

There’s something that I think is really important to understanding Will’s character and his relationship with violence, and that I used to see people bring up a lot, but not so much nowadays - “You play, you pay.”  Will doesn’t actually say that line until the back end of s3, but he lives it throughout the entire show.  I don’t think it’s as simple as categorizing some people as “innocents,” because a lot of people he demonstrates compassion for have a complicated relationship with that concept - “combatants” versus “noncombatants” is the way I tend to think about it.�� People who’ve opted in to the murder fuckery in some way, either by being one of the perpetrators of said murder fuckery directly, or otherwise choosing to engage with it (e.g. being in law enforcement, being a Horrible Goose Journalist, running off to Europe with Hannibal Lecter....), versus people who did not sign up for this shit.  

That’s not to say he thinks everyone who’s “opted in” deserves whatever happens to them, but he’s a lot more likely to view them as acceptable collateral damage (unless he cares about them personally, like with Beverly, and ultimately, Hannibal himself).  Molly and Walter didn’t sign up for this shit.  As such, them being killed by Dolarhyde wouldn’t be acceptable to Will if they were someone else’s family, and it certainly isn’t acceptable to him as-is.  

Don’t let the “Will Graham is evil, responsible for everything bad that happens to everyone, and acting with malice at all times” edgelords get to you.  :P  They want to flatten a nuanced, interesting character into evil cardboard, then I suppose that’s their prerogative to be Wrong On The Internet, but the rest of us can keep enjoying our morally complex show for what it is.

[prurientpuddlejumper]

A Lipless Face That I Want to Marry, Ch. 8

<- Chapter 7 | Chapter 9 ->

Summary: Frederick alone. 

2,163 words

How many days had he been in the hospital? There had been at least one more surgery since you left. More blood transfusions.

It all bled together without you there. There was nothing to distinguish one day from the next except the tedious procedures—a blood test to see how his kidney was holding up, some new skin here, a z-plasty there. He was a little bit glad you were not there when they grafted his penis with a stretchable mesh of skin. God forbid he got aroused while that was healing. He laughed at the thought, as if your absence was just temporary.

The sun outside his window told him whether it was day or night, but the stretches of hours he was knocked out under anesthetic and pain meds made it impossible to know whether it was was from the same day, or if he had slept until the next one. Without your schedule to ground him, it was pointless bothering to find out.

At least you were not always touching him, asking him about his feelings. Staring. He could feel the pressure of your gaze on his face, dancing like jabbing needles across his barely-healed skin. He hated it. He had some peace and quiet now.

It did not feel real yet. It seemed so certain you would be back—you had become such a steadfast presence in his life for the past three years, he never imagined you could leave it. Not forever. It did not seem beyond taking back.

But as much as he was in denial, he knew what he said could not be taken back. One cannot break off an engagement, tell their fiancé to move out, and expect things to ever go back to normal.

He didn’t need you. You always hated his preening, the sophisticated circles he traveled in. You wanted him this way—destroyed and disgusting, unable to pass in decent society. He was not sure if he really believed that, or if he just needed a reason to hate you.

A nurse could bring him the phone. All he had to do was press the nurse call button and Pamela would come running, and he could call you. He could apologize. If he reached you before you got rid of the ring, before you packed your bags, he might be able to convince you to stay.

He did not call.

***

The sun was down, whatever day it was. There was still fluorescent light shining in from the hallway, enough to dimly light the room. Frederick lay awake. Parts of his back ached from lying in the same position too long, and it had been too long since a nurse came and shifted him. He shifted himself, what little he could, and the heart monitor climbed frantically with the feeble effort of a few inches. His tight scar tissue pulled like he was wearing too-tight denim over his whole body, and his more recent stitches stung. He was so weak. So pathetically weak.

The sun was up again, some time later. Frederick eyed the small stack of mail for him at his bedside table. You were always the one who read to him. But he did not need you.

He pressed the nurse call button, which had been rigged with tape and a wooden tongue depressor into a large switch he could push more easily with his limited dexterity. He pushed down on it and it buzzed so loudly he swore, a throb of pain shooting through the back of his skull. Part of the jury-rigged switch caught on the gauze mitten wrapped around his hand and left the switch stuck on in a continual buzz. He swore again, more fiercely, and jerked his hand until the makeshift switch snapped, and the call button fell off the edge of the bed. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!”

Where the hell was the nurse? If this had been an emergency he could be dead by now.

In his last physical therapy session, he had been able to reach nearly as far as the bedside table, with assistance. He reached for an envelope, and his mittened hand made it all the way to the edge of the bed before bumping against the metal railing that prevented him from rolling out. That was it. All at once, every latent frustration came out at that goddamned railing in a primal scream. He punched the metal—barely a twitch with his atrophied muscles, but enough to sting his tender fingers and draw another enraged shout. His breathing came in heavy, choked bursts, and he began to sob.

When finally a nurse showed up—his favorite, Pamela—she didn’t make any humiliating sympathetic comments about the tears wetting his face. He asked if you had called or tried to visit.

You had not.

***

The dead at least have the luxury of being done with what they lost.

The sky was dark, nearly black with clouds, though Frederick suspected it was day. Heavy rain pummeled against the window, and it gave the room a cold, dreary cast. He wondered if there was a way he could kill himself. To be done. It would have been easy in a hospital, if he had use of his legs and hands—he could tamper with his morphine drip, or find some anesthetic… the options were limitless to one who knew what he was doing with medical equipment.

The one person who never manipulated him into danger, the one person who stood beside him, the one person who loved him completely for everything he was, he had thrown away. Was it worth it staying alive for revenge alone? He was never going to get better. Not completely. He would be trapped in this scarred, aching body for the rest of his life. If he died, his will left all of his money to you. Then you would be free.

But he was Doctor Frederick Chilton, damn it! He did not give up. He did not give up after Abel Gideon tortured him, or after being framed for murder and shot. Every time he fell, he held his chin up, and rose higher. This whole incident brought him notoriety, a spotlight he would take advantage of to bring him greater fame than even Hannibal Lecter himself. Forget national bestsellers, this time he was thinking movie deal. In a few years, he would be walking again, he would have a new face, lips. He would have everything back.

Except you.

He could never get back the one thing that already felt like a hole in his life, and would feel like a gaping sinkhole when he finally returned home and you were not there. His comfort. If you were coming back, you would have done it by now.

Every time he angrily demanded you leave, you would always slink off with your tail tucked, but crawl back all sweetness and forgiveness the next day. This time was different. He said so many unforgivable things. But he had to go that far, he told himself—he had to break things off.

He was so bitter, and angry. He was never the easiest man to live with, and now all of his compassion had been burned out of him. You didn’t deserve to keep running back to a cruel, bitter man out of loyalty, to be smothered inside a dark hospital when you were meant to be in the sun. He knew exactly what Chiltons could be like, and he never wanted to put you through that. If that was the nightmare he was turning into, then it was better for you to be far away, not married to it.

But, oh, to touch you one last time…

***

Another day. He thought about calling you again, if just to hear the sound of your voice. But what would be the point? You could have called him. Clearly you wanted him out of your life.

A nurse knocked tentatively on the door. Not one of his usual nurses.

“You have a visitor, Mr. Chilton. They said… they’re not sure if you want to see them?”

He perked up immediately, so eager to respond, “Of course I do!” that he didn’t bother to correct the nurse about his title. His face fell when a young black woman walked in, carefully tapping a long white stick across the ground. “Oh. You.”

She stopped in her tracks, a timid expression of guilt written on her face. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be here...” she stammered, turning around.

“No, no, no. Come in, come in, Reba McClane,” he pronounced her name pointedly. “I wanted to speak to you anyway.”

“You did?” She began searching her way closer to his bed.

“Naturally. For my book. An interview with the Tooth Fairy’s lover.”

Her tentative smile quickly turned into a scowl. “Freddie Lounds already offered to tell my story.”

Frederick scoffed. “Tell me you are not considering that libelous TattleCrime gossip rag. I am a distinguished, respected author—what I could do with your story is far—”

“I told her the same thing I’m telling you: I do not want my name associated with that man. My entire life is already tainted. I won’t talk about him anymore. I only came to apologize… it seemed the least I could do. You’re the only one of victims left alive to apologize to.”

“You forget to count yourself,” Frederick corrected with uncharacteristic empathy. “We are both his survivors.”

Reba’s shoulders relaxed a little at that. “I wasn’t sure you’d see it that way. A lot of people, they think I knew. Or that I must be a monster to have loved a monster like that. I can’t blame them… I don’t know what to think of myself anymore.”

“There is no accounting for taste.”

Reba and Frederick settled into a surprisingly comfortable chat. She unburdened her guilt—she thought she had sensed someone else in the room that night, and knew something was off, but didn’t call the police—and Frederick magnanimously forgave her. Dolarhyde would have killed her and slit Frederick’s throat on the spot if she tried to be a hero. He chose not to call out for help, knowing that. They talked about love, and the deep vein of anger they both shared. Perhaps it set Frederick at ease that she was blind. If she stared, it was not with any regard to his face. 

Then she went to the window, to stand in the warm light streaming through the glass, and knocked over a vase of plastic flowers. He snapped at her, his voice raising with violence so out of proportion to the offense, she wasn’t sure whether to apologize or yell back. After scrambling to find to the vase on the floor, she settled on dryly calling him an asshole.

Nobody had called him out so bluntly since before he was hospitalized, and it made him smile, as best as his cheeks could manage. “You remind me of someone,” he said.

Reba pondered why his voice was so fond at the memory of someone who called him an asshole. She wondered what the flowers meant. “Was this the somebody you were hoping it was when I walked in? Who—”

“Nobody important.”

“Really? That’s not what I’m hearing.”

He sighed grumpily. Then just sighed. “You told Dolarhyde you were not so damaged that you were incapable of love. Do you still feel that way?”

“If you’re looking for relationship advice, I do not believe myself qualified to give any,” she said, reading him like braille. “But I’m not going to give up on the goodness in people. Everybody has a darkness deep down, but not everyone’s darkness is murdering families. I survived Dee, and if I can do that… I can find someone whose darkness is a little softer. Soft enough to live with. I have to believe I can still love—that he didn’t break me. I hope he didn’t break you, either.”

***

Another day. He ruined everything with you.

The first question Frederick asked when EMTs found his still-smoldering body—rasping it over and over until someone understood—was if you were safe. Had Dolarhyde gone after his family? But of all the things that the Red Dragon had taken from him, you were the one he had destroyed all on his own.

Finally, after two weeks of resisting, he could not bear it anymore. When his physical therapy session ended, he quietly, firmly, with fragile pride, asked the nurse to help him with the phone. He dialed your number, and she held the receiver to his ear as it rang.

It rang.

It rang.

It went to voicemail.

Frederick leaned into the receiver as your friendly, guileless voice instructed him to leave a message. It must have been recorded before everything, back when you were so happy all the time. It had been ages since he heard you sound like that. He wondered if you would be happy and carefree again soon, without him.

• ● • ━━━━━─ ••●•• ─━━━━━ • ● •

Tags: @beccabarba  @caked-crusader @itsjustmyfantasyroom @thatesqcrush @dianilaws @permanentlydizzy @eclecticreader2020  @mrsrafaelbarba 

[lilgynt]

@cannibaldatingsite and @perriersbounty thank u both for tagging me 🥺🥺🥺🥺 mwah mwah mwah love u both  Rules: answer 30 questions and tag 20 people you’d like to get to know better!

1. Name: graham!!!!!!

2. Gender: no 🥰

3. Star sign: aries >:) 

4. Height: 5′7

5. Time: 1:29 am 

6. Birthday: march 28th!

7. Favorite band/group: OOF. this is soo bad i literally just find a song from a playlist movie or some random shit then listen to said one song. be like oh cool i like that. and then not engage with the band till 3 years later. i guess my chemical romance but that feels not right ive been listening to a lot of AJJ lately???????

8. Favorite solo artists: i am once again being terrible and not engaing with artist outside of one or two songs till like three years later 😭😭

9. Song stuck in my head: you know my name from casino royale 

10. Last movie: i think it was the green butchers 

11. Last show: riverdale ✊😔 i needed something on when i did my legos and i cant have like hannibal on when im not paying attention attention but honestly riverdale IS growing on me

12. When did I create this blog: hmmmm i wanna say 2013?

13. What do I post: uhhhhh mostly anything i see and am like oh thats cool, mainly hannibal poety art and then random posts on here i feel like u cant get on other social medias. this is also my personal diary 🥰🥰🥰 

14. Last thing I googled: liberty spikes 

15. Other blogs: i have pixalrights for ninjago 

16. Do I get asks: hmmm not really but sometimes?

17. Why I chose this url: only canon url i could get to trollhunters and didnt hate 

18. Following: 2,117.......

19. Followers: 521

20. Average hours of sleep: at night? 3-5 but if i pass out during the day all bets off 

21. Lucky number: i like 7 and 8 and numbers with those two near together 

22. Instruments: used to play the cello during middle and high school 🥰🥰🥰

23. What I am wearing: giant hoodie and some boxers 

24. Dream job: simply dont dream of work ❤️ but like i used to want to be a medical examiner/a lawyer. im a journalism major rn sooooooooo 

25. Dream trip: i think somewhere remote would be nice. Ireland comes to mind but just want to see lots of greenary and the sea. foggy too would be nice. or just something really far out where you can see the stars really well

26. Favorite food: i love soups.........clam chowder and red pepper lobster bisque..........

27. Nationality: American

28. Favorite song: hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm rn probably deep green by Marika Hackman 

“ Batteries and Holy Ghosts Buried in my bag of bones She said they would help me to grow Said feeding the stomach is feeding the soul”

simply makes me go fucking bonkers.......

  29. Last book I read: hmm im working on the plague rn but last i finished was crush *hand and sad emoji*

30. Top three fictional universes I’d like to live in: not my comfort fantasy of being in the star trek universe 😭😭😭 other than that i dont know........most media i consume im like. rather kill myself than live there thank u mwah  

im feeling very shy 😳 👉👈 so im not tagging people however if you want to do it go crazy!!!!!!!! especially tag me to see if we’re mutuals i love u 

[unpopularfanopinion]

One. If someone went to pride and then ran around calling people the f-slur when people call them out they don't get to try and back off by saying "no no I only meant the bad* gays are f-slurs. I'm not homophobic" (*bad meaning anyone acting outside a narrw band of acceptable behavior) People are not psychic they don't know you mean a subgroup of people when you use a term that applies to a wide group of people. It just doesn't work that way.

Also the "extreme proshippers" they don't actually deserve your nasty little comment either. Because they don't do what you claim. Yes they may have ships that contain problematic elements but that doesn't mean that they are promoting, endorsing or condoning that behavior in real life. Just like the people who make and play Grand Theft Auto are not promoting and condoning gun violence and crime. Just like V.C. Andrews and George R Martin are not promoting and condoning incest with their books. Just like Ryan Murphy and Mads Mikkelson were not promoting or condoning serial murder or cannibalism via the TV show Hannibal. They only people who are having difficulty separating fiction from reality are people like you who thinks that by having those ships and writing that fiction they are promoting and condoning that behavior in real life. Demonstrating the same level of mental awareness as the people sending actor Nathon Jones nasty comments over a scene in a movie and the charater he plays https://screenrant.com/furiosa-movie-rictus-actor-fiction-clarification-response/

And if you were actually just saying you were uncomfortable with XYZ in fiction and moving on, no people would not actually have a problem with that. But that's not what's happening, or what did happen. You felt disgust over certain tropes/topics in fiction(understandable) that you did not want to engage in. That disgust then lead you to make false and inaccurate assumptions about the people who do like and engage in those topics. Your disgust and your inaccurate assumptions then let you feel justified in making nasty, insulting, and dehumanizing statements about the people who engage in that fiction. And unsurprisingly the people who you just insulted and accused of crimes take offense to that and responded accordingly.

Again calling a large group of people "creatures of hell" the way you did is the equivalent of street harassment. Harassment does not have to targeted to an individual to be harassment. You committed an act of harassment and was told to stop. You then whined about being told to stop your harassment, only doing so because you wanted people to see your fic. Not because you recognized that what you doing was harassment, or that harassment is wrong.

Is it really any wonder that people would say you don't deserve Ao3 when you actively chose to disregard a core principal of Ao3 and make nasty and judgemental comments about other Ao3 users. Nasty and judgemental comments not based on any reality but your own subjective feelings and stupid assumptions. What you actively chose to do something to make other Ao3 users feel unsafe when using the site? Tell me why do you think you deserve Ao3 when you can't respect the other authors and readers on Ao3

If you want to control who reads and responds to your fics Ao3 is not the place for you. You would want something like livejournal or dreamwidth which allows you to lock content to friends(mutual only) and where people have to ask to be your friend. Or have a closed community. Having a fic on Ao3 is an open invitation to all Ao3 users to read it. The tags are your advertisement. There are going to be people who might not be interested in age regression fic at all, but they're still going to see that insulting tag and be hurt by it even if they (supposedly) weren't the target of your insult at all.

putting a dni on a fic is dumb you got what you deserved 🤷

Can you explain to me WHY it’s dumb and WHY I got what I “deserved”? Plenty of other people legit bash and harass proshippers which I didn’t do. People have said worse things on more popular fanfics than my own. I did not harass anyone therefore I didn’t do what I was accused of. I don’t want to interact with proshippers so I make sure people know it’s not a fic for them and that it won’t be a “supportive” or “safe space” for them since I very clearly don’t support proshipping. It’s MY comment section and I’m going to make sure it’s a safe space for other people who aren’t proshippers or who are anti. If this prevents a stupid ass fucking ship war then so be it. I know I can’t control or dictate what other people do or say, but again, it’s my comment section and if someone says some weird creepy shit then I don’t want to interact with that and I doubt most people would want to either.

Genuinely curious as to why I would be “getting what I deserved” since I didn’t do shit and I’m the one essentially being “”””harassed”””” 💀

[reachexceedinggrasp]

I have so many issues with NBC Hannibal and the treatment of Miriam Lass has to be one of them, because it exemplifies...exactly the kind of figure way too many people see Clarice as, and the kind of dynamic they imagine she and Hannibal would “realistically” have? The narrative treats her as a pawn and frames her as either a victim or a motive, there for men to manipulate or have Guilty Feelings about; her agency is never considered. It’s a misogynistic regression from the source material.

I didn’t watch it because I’m wasn’t interested in a non-canon prequel about Will either way, but I remain eternally pissed about them strip mining the canon and cobbling together a Frankenstein’s monster of random moments using the most iconic elements totally devoid of their context and impact. Throwing portentous, memorable shit from the original away on villains of the week for who can imagine what reason.

The misogyny doesn’t surprise me at all considering the central mission of the series was apparently to take Clarice’s challenging empowerment arc about overthrowing the patriarchal forces which were stifling her and embracing her own desires while engaging in the first relationship of true equality and mutual respect she’s ever had with a man, and transform that ending of triumphant transcendence for a female protagonist into the story of the victimisation of a man. Appropriating the emotional foundations of the arc (Dr Lecter’s admiration for Clarice and their special connection) and ransacking its genuinely romantic, sincerely supportive content to repurpose into manipulation and abuse.

And then the fandom talk about how that was a beautiful dark love story. The same fandom which wanks endlessly about how Hannibal the novel is unacceptable and dangerous and shouldn't be read. Two dudes destroying themselves literally and psychologically, totally fucked up and profoundly unhealthy, that’s fine. That’s Real Art. But when it was a man and a woman who set each other free from the chains of their trauma and willingly chose each other, when it’s a woman who abandons the social status quo with open eyes- that’s problematic and terrible and how dare.

The patheticness of this insanely transparent double standard is the story of every arc where the woman is the active character. She has to be a role model, which means she must be Pure and must submit to and live by the macho conception of power rather than deciding it's bullshit. She cannot escape or live on her own terms. Clarice is the only female protagonist I can name from American pop culture who was fully realised and treated with just as much depth and complexity and without kid gloves as any male character. She’s the only one I can think of who got to have it all. And motherfuckers are of course out here rewriting the entire universe so they can cut up her story and split it between a man and some empty victim stand-ins.

[butyouvealwaysbeenthecaretaker]

More importantly, though, I think it’s one of a set with Victim(1961) and Giovanni’s Room in that it’s far more about the psychodrama of being a gay than the social experience.

& I want to pick up on this review from the Hollywood Reporter:

“The Boys In The Band in many ways is dated and formulaic. But it's also very much alive, an invaluable record of the destructive force of societal rejection, even in a bastion of liberal acceptance like New York City. Despite its flaws, this consistently engaging film provides a vital window for young queer audiences into the difficult lives of their forebears.“

Which reminds me of how people also now write about Victim, and honey - these films aren’t dated. Dear god, if only they were. And perhaps the key flaw with The Boys In the Band is that Murphy has a campy love of the period piece, and chose to set it with cracked crab dinner plates, 1970s beiges and browns, and aviator sunglasses, because it suggests a distance. We wouldn’t be reviving the play merely for nostalgia’s sake. Set it now - why not? What the heck do these people think has changed about gay life since 1968?

If anything, gay life has got worse, in that there’s now less space for these emotions to be taken seriously. At least when there were legal restrictions, no representation and widespread cultural disapproval, you knew where you stood. The progress of the LGBT community often feels to me like gaslighting by everyone around me, because I connect to the Boys in the Band on the basis of what is going on in my life right now this week. There’s nothing dated about the way these characters feel, merely how they dress (and if you ever see my wardrobe, barely so).

There’s a tension between utopian-realistic-doomerist-distraction drama. Distraction drama is like, Hannibal, where gay stuff happens but it’s not focused on or explored; and doomerist is like, Boys Don’t Cry, just focusing right in on the fact that bad things happen; realistic is like Pose, a mix of good and bad things, a kind of slice of life; and utopian is like, I wouldn’t know, I suppose something like the new Tales of the City where we just don’t talk about the bad things that happen as if, the pendulum has swung all the way away from burying your gays to being too shallow to have any meaning or relatability.

And that latter trope is often held up as necessary propaganda, almost, as if we can “trick” young people into thinking their lives are going to be OK by being relentlessly positive. That’s the era I grew up in, and it’s bullshit, it just leaves you without any kind of meaningful representation.

& this isn’t only a complaint about media, it’s also a bigger question of - this is like, an unnamed problem, a problem you can’t voice, and I don’t know how we can tackle it without stating it clearly; but I also don’t know what, if anything, is to be done about it, if some 50 years of cultural change and fighting for our rights still produces people who are messed up upon exactly the same lines as their forebears, as if we’d done nothing in that time at all. It feels like an impossible task.