#idk who's dead jack or someone else but. If one left that man too alone with his thought he'd go patently insane. And wouldn't even know.

[breitzbachbea]

Fuck it. this day started with Little Piece of Heaven, it may as well end with it.

[an-army-of-nightmares]

Porcelain Jekyll au

-

This is gonna be long so heres a tldr

TLDR: Jekyll gets taken to a sort of real nightmare party full of dolls, if he misbehaves they'll kill him and if he's a perfect gentleman he'll turn into a doll. There's a branch where he's rescued and two where he turns into a doll

--

•The au starts with Jekyll going to sleep, timeline honestly doesn't matter as long as Frankenstein, Jasper, and Jekyll are all around. Could start where tgs currently is? But Jasper doesn't accidentally wake Jekyll up in his panic

•"The Party of Dolls" is basically a supernatural nightmare? I haven't found a better explanation but basically it's a nightmare that's real and happening, while still "just" being a nightmare. It takes you to like a different dimension while you sleep basically? (The party of dolls isn't the only one but that's not relevant)

•The dolls invite specific people, they invite people who want to be perfect. People who dont want anyone to hate them or find a flaw. Jekyll fits this perfectly

•Jekyll is taken to the party. He tries to be polite despite being unnerved. There's another human at the party, he doesn't learn the man's name before the man gets ripped apart by the dolls for shouting

The dolls target specific people, but they can still take "fodder", people they know will immediately break the rules. So that their actual guests can learn what happens if they are impolite. The dolls also surround guest on all sides, and have them in the exact middle, so that the guest cannot just run out

•Jekyll is terrified, now knowing he'll die if he does something wrong, he tries his best to be perfect

•Unknown to Jekyll, if he's "perfect" he'll start turning into a doll. Ultimately it's a die or die situation

•Jekyll does start to notice the porcelain creeping up him, its be hard not to. He is very much (silently) panicking. But,, the more porcelain on him the more calm he becomes, the more he acts as if this is a simple party and nothing is wrong

•Eventually he reaches a point where he'd actively resist being taken away from the party, but still not fully covered by porcelain

A quick note, Hyde can't do anything about the situation. He wasn't invited and the dolls are suppressing him so much he can hardly even tell what's happening, or leave the mindscape. He's absolutely terrified about this because he can Feel something is wrong and everything is just becoming more and more suffocating

Now onto the branches! There are 2 and a half branches for this au!

Branch 1: Jekyll gets rescued

(Assuming this takes place at Chapter 11 Page 8)

•Jekyll is asleep on the couch, Jasper rushes in the room like his panic on the page except this time Jekyll does not wake up at Jasper's sudden entry. Jasper, noticing Jekyll is asleep, silently contemplates on if this problem is really worth waking Jekyll. Because on the one hand he's probably overreacting in his mind, but on the other Jekyll is really the only person he can panic to?

•He decides not to wake Jekyll, and wait until it's properly morning or noon?, now that the panic is a bit subdued he probably still has stuff to ask Jekyll

•He goes up to find Jekyll is still asleep, and Zosi frantically pawing at Jekyll's chest, occasionally nibbling him, and seemingly really wants to wake Jekyll up. Jasper tries to wake him up but it seems no matter how hard he tries Jekyll stays asleep

•Seeing how Lanyon probably isn't in the Society at the moment (and besides Jasper is pretty sure Robert dislikes him) and he's currently avoiding Rachel. Jasper cant ask Jekyll's friends if this is normal behavior. Why doesn't he ask the lodgers? Maybe a combination of they all seem busy and still being a bit intimidated by them? So he goes to his last best bet, Frankenstein. She's, kinda a doctor and has traveled quite a bit, so she may know whats up with Jekyll and why Zosi is panicking

Note: This whole decision happens in like a few seconds while Jasper is panicking

•Frankenstein does not ease Jasper's worries

•Ah, I guess there has to be some sort of tell, something that makes it clear someone is in one of these "supernatural nightmares" and that Jekyll is specifically in the party of dolls. Idk yet what that tell would be. But Frankenstein knows and thats all that matters

•They take Jekyll back to the attic, lock the entry, and make preparations for a rescue mission

•Frankenstein will be going in to try and distract the dolls while Jasper will be looking for Jekyll. Creature is there as plan B in case the dolls get hostile towards them (as Creature is fully capable of lifting them all up and running out of there. And the dolls are very likely to get hostile towards them)

•They get in, how? I have no clue. But they do. Probably a potion?

•Jasper quickly finds Jekyll and tries to convince him to leave. Much to Jasper's concern, Jekyll doesn't want to leave, and keeps brushing the danger off

Frankenstein and Jasper dont know much about the nightmare. Its likely all they know is that its filled with dolls and people who are "invited" are never seen again/found dead

•Frankenstein's distraction consists of pointing out flaws in how the dolls act. The dolls keep finding excuses, but eventually become agitated with her

•Japser notices the porcelain on Jekyll and loudly panics, attracting the already agitated dolls attention

•Creature picks them all up and runs towards the doors. Jekyll is greatly struggling against this rescue attempt, but once they get out of the building and onto the stretch of yard before the exit Jekyll calms down significantly

Jekyll did not actually calm down, but rather Hyde managed to weasel control after they left the building. Hyde absolutely does not want to be at this party, and Jekyll's struggling could've jeopardized the rescue

•They get back! Whatever porcelain was on Jekyll falls off him with ease. He's angry for maybe half a day or more. But when the doll's control completely leaves him, he's nothing but relieved

Sidenote: It seems reasonable that this whole experience would leave Jekyll with a fear of going to sleep. Perhaps give him something that can deter these types of nightmares? A desire for the comfort of another person, at least in the room, while he's asleep?

Branch 2: Jekyll fully turns into a doll

•Well either Jekyll went to sleep at his own home or some place where no one would think to look for him, as if he was right in the society they'd certainly take notice that something is wrong

•Jekyll fully turns to porcelain. Once he's a full doll they give him new clothes (the sand/beige colored suit I tend to draw porcelain Jekyll in)

Previously, Jekyll had been wearing the suit he wears at any formal party, like the ball in An Army Of Nightmares

•Porcelain Jekyll gets back to the real world. This is not entirely out of the ordinary for the dolls to do. If a guest was reasonably young or famous they'll be returned once a doll, to make themselves more known or respectable before they "die" and go back to the party full time

•Zosi notices something is Wrong while Jekyll is asleep and tries to wake him up to no avail, Zosi can't bark for attention and he's scared of leaving Jekyll alone, the few times he does go out to find someone he's largely ignored or avoided, or they misinterpret what the zombie pup wants. When Jekyll does wake up, Zosi immediately notices that it's not Jekyll, at least not anymore. Zosi knows he's supposed to get rid of any evil creatures, but this was once Jekyll. So the pup runs away and avoids him instead

•ooo I dont want to describe this whole branch? This has already taken way longer for me to write then I want XD, just check out this reblog chain about it bsksndks

•

Branch 2 ��: Jekyll dies

•Jekyll fully turns into a doll, however instead of entering the real world his real body simply dies. He's found rotting in bed. "Jekyll" however, is still in the party. (Fun fact, this was the original plan for the au)

-----

Extra notes:

▪All the dolls in the party were once people, except for maybe one or two? A handful? But it has long since been lost who's who. And it never mattered

▪Lanyon would not have ever been invited to the party. He doesn't seem to want to be a gentleman, and he knows too much about etiquette to be fodder either

▪Jasper is a proper candidate to be invited, and in branch 2 "Jekyll" is giving him alot more lessons on how to be a proper gentleman, planning to invite Jasper to the party at some point

▪The party always has a host that they cycle though, the host talks to guests a bit more than everyone else

▪Porcelain Jekyll gets to keep his new clothes when returning to the real world

[darling-i-read-it]

The Wrath of the Lamb

3x13

Hannibal Lecter x reader x Will Graham 

Hannibal Re-Write Series Masterlist

Word Count: 4.7k (this is officially the longest thing i’ve ever posted, i beat my own record three times with this series lmao)

Warnings: spoilers for hannibal, murder, guns, pregnancy, burning, canniablism, death, gore probably more idk 

Author’s Note: My very favorite thing about this rewrite is watching the show and seeing how those writers and creators took pieces of the original source material to create their own show and I took both the novels and the show and just did this. I am very very proud of this. I am so happy I decided to do it. I was going to make a substantial change to the ending but I honestly am hoping that one day, season 4 will happen and maybe I’ll stil be writing. Thank you all SO MUCH for getting this far. I am so happy we got to share this together and that this show is as good as it is. I hope I did it justice because this show is so complex. I hope that you all enjoy and thank you again. 

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

Official Episode Summary: Will orchestrates a plot involving Hannibal in hope of slaying Francis Dolarhyde; Bedelia is concerned for Will and the lives of those close to him.

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

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

(not my gif) 

You looked in the small window of Reba’s hospital room. You were standing outside of it beside your husband, your hand tight around your upper arm. You were almost cradling yourself in a way. This reminded you of when you had come to visit Abigail, when she was still in the hospital. As your eyes went from the window to Will you were once again thrown to the reality of now. If it had been Abigail in that room you would have looked to see a shaking, sweating puppy dog Will Graham who was so unsure of the world around him. This Will was so different. His hair was done, his shirt ironed. You had ironed it. 

He met your eyes and you gave him a small nod. He opened the door and you let him go inside. You did not follow him. He had enough empathy to give Reba and he understood where she was standing. You and him understood. You had all loved a monster.

-

Will grabbed your arm gently. You and him stood in front of Hannibal’s cage. You had no doubt that Hannibal saw you somewhere else. But nonetheless, you allowed yourself to ease in his presence. A thing Will was once again learning to do.

“Ding-dong, the Dragon’s dead,” Will said. Hannibal raised an eyebrow. He looked between the two of you and his smile faded.

“Pity. I had such plans,” he promised. You believed that. “Are congratulations in order?” Will approached the other man, just against the glass wall. 

“I didn’t kill him. Neither did Y/N. Suicide.”

“I would have liked to kill him as well,” you muttered. Hannibal seemed disappointed at that.

“Then he wasn’t as strong as the Dragon after all,” Hannibal whispered. 

“He was trying to stop,” Will argued. You weren’t sure why Will was arguing for Francis. You hated that he was. He had hurt you. Francis had scared you. You didn’t mention it but you could feel that Hannibal caught the emotion

“I was rooting for you, Will. I figured you would adore killing the man who attacked your family, it’s such a shame. You came all this way and didn’t even get to kill anybody. Only consolation is Dr. Chilton.” Hannibal paused for affect. “Congratulations for the job you did on him. I admired it enormously. Did you do it together? Was the idea hatched in the duo?” You straightened your back. 

“No,” Will said simply. 

“What a cunning couple you are,” Hannibal said anyway. 

“Are you accusing us of something?” you questioned.

“Does the enemy inside you agree with the accusation? Even a little bit?” Hannibal questioned. 

“We came back to stop the Dragon. He’s stopped,” Will stated. 

“Your family was on his itinerary Will. You’re safe now, all three of you. You can go home again. If there’s any point?” Hannibal suggested. You gave him a look. 

“I like my life,” Will said but he did not sound convincing. 

“It won't’ be the same. You’ll see it’s not the same,” Hannibal promised. You stepped closer to the glass.

“I want it to be the same. Together, we will make it the same,” you promised.

“Mutual assurances you try to exchange in the dark and in the day will pass through some refraction, making them miss their mark. When life becomes maddeningly polite…” Hannibal thought about his words and made you both think about them as well. “...think about me. Think about me, don’t worry about me.” 

Will was ready to leave. You could feel it. 

“You turned yourself in so I would always know where you are. You’d only do that if we, together, rejected you.” Will put his hand on the nape of your back. “Good-bye Hannibal.” Will started to lead you out. 

“Will…” He turned. “Was it good to see me?” 

“Good? No.” 

Will walked out and you followed him. He kept going but you stopped as the doors behind you shut. Your mind reeled and he could see it. 

“I need my own goodbye,” you whispered. He gave you a long look. He knew that this was what you needed. He knew it was. Still though, he didn’t want it. He wanted to protest. 

“I’m going back to the motel. Meet me there?” You nodded. He walked down the hall. You could feel his tenseness but ignored it as you walked back into the room with Hannibal. He was clearly surprised to see you. 

“Was that not good-bye?” he questioned. You shrugged.

“That was Will’s good-bye. Not mine.” 

You walked in front of the glass and sat down. Hannibal did the same. You were arguably one of the only people he would sit down like that for. 

“I take for granted, on occasion, that you enjoyed my company,” you told him. You played with the hem of your pants. “I recognize, to a fault, that you would eat me if let out. You would eat my husband. You would eat my baby. But still…” You smiled, reminiscently. “I loved you.” 

He was pleased to hear this. He was so pleased.

“You never would have left him. Not even if I killed him in the kitchen,” he suggested. You thought about that for a moment. You thought back to that terrible day and felt it again.

“I suppose you’re right.”

“When you came in to interview for the secretary position I had already picked someone. I didn’t want to be rude, so I let you in.” He stopped. That was the end of his story.

“Why would you let me work for you?”

“Because I liked you. And as it turns out, we would have met eventually. Through Will.” You nodded.

“But it would have been different.” 

“Yes. Yes it would have.” You pressed your hand against the glass. He looked at it and he did not put his hand on yours. 

“Will is right. I turned myself in so you and he would always know where I am. Because you rejected me.” Your hand fell off the glass slowly.

“I deserved that.” 

You stood up and took a deep breath.

“Good-bye Hannibal.” 

-

You walked up to the hotel room and started to grab the key from your purse. You struggled for a moment but eventually found it. You slid it into the lock and unlocked it, walking inside. Your mind hung over Hannibal still when you were grabbed. You had just been able to see Francis coming at you enough to push him off, hitting his head. He ran out of the door and you followed him but eventually he went too far and you had to stop. You turned back to the room and ran back, your hand on your stomach as you breathed hard from adrenaline. 

Will sat in the chair, tied down. You rushed to him, locking the door behind you. 

You started to untie him.

“Who was that?” you asked. 

“The Red Dragon,” he breathed. You scoffed.

“Not dead then.”

“Clearly.” You got him out quickly.

“Are you alright?” you questioned. He nodded, rubbing his wrists. 

“Yeah. He didn’t hurt me much.” 

“What did he want?” 

You stared at each other. He didn’t need to tell you. You knew. 

-

Will, you and Jack Crawford stood in the hall leading to the morgue. 

“The obvious thing is to try to get him to come to us. Bait him with something he wants more than us,” Will said. Jack gave him a look.

“He’d be an idiot to go for it,” Jack muttered. 

“I know. Want to hear what the best bait would be?” you asked. Jack stared at you. You stared back at him.

“Not from you.”

“Hannibal would be the best bait,” Will said so that you didn’t have to. Jack shook his head.

“Why in God’s name would anybody want to meet Hannibal Lecter?”

“To kill him, Jack. The Dragon could absorb him that way, engulf him, become more than he is,” Will explained. It gave you a moment of just realizing that was how he used to speak about killers he didn’t know. 

“You sound pretty sure Will.”

“I’m not sure. Who’s sure? I’m not even sure Hannibal would draw the Dragon. I say it’s the best shot,” Will explained. 

“Set up how?” Jack asked.

“I would be hell to do, I know that. We’d take Hannibal into federal custody,” Will said. You gave him a look. 

“Because Y/N and Alana would never sit still for what you’re about to suggest?” You gave Jack a bitter role. 

“We fake an escape.” Will stared at you for a moment and Zeller called his name. “One moment.” He disappeared in the morgue that left you and Jack alone, annoyingly. 

“You’ll have both their lives in your hands,” you whispered. 

“Since when do you care about if Hannibal gets hurt under my care?” he questioned.

“Since now.” 

-

Bedelia did not look happy. You did not expect her to be happy either. You respected her bit of unhappiness. 

“We assign a moment to decision, to dignify the process as a timely result of rational and conscious thought. Yet what you propose is so thoughtless, I find it difficult to imagine that moment exists,” Bedelia said bitterly. You stood behind Will, walking around the room slowly. Will sat down across from her.

“Decisions are made of kneaded feelings. They’re more often a lump than a sum.” Bedelia stood up, walked to where she kept the drinks and poured herself one. She offered one to you that she then realized you couldn’t drink. 

“However you think you’re going to manipulate this situation to your advantage, think again,” Bedelia said.

“There is no advantage. It’s all degrees of disadvantage,” you argued. Bedelia fixed on you and Will with a piercing stare. 

“‘Who holds the Devil, let him hold him well. He will hardly be caught a second time’.” 

“I don’t intend Hannibal to be caught a second time.” A flicker of alarm played in her eyes. 

“Can’t live with him. Can’t live without him. Is that what this is?” she asked, bitterly.

“I guess this is my Becoming,” Will suggested.

“I just tag along,” you whispered.

“Because you have two crazy men in absolute love with you,” she told you. Will stood up, straightening his jacket. He was done here.

“I’d pack my bags if I were you Bedelia. Meat’s back on the menu.” 

-

Alana looked annoyed. She sat in Jack’s office, a place you hated to the ends of the Earth. You messed with your hair a bit, leaning against the wall.

“Hannibal has tentatively agreed to the deal, as proposed,” Alana said.

“What will make him less tentative?” 

“He wants Will and Y/N to ask him.” She turned to him. “He wants you to say ‘please’.” You gave a bitter smile. So very like him.

“I’ll say ‘pretty please’,” Will said. He was preparing to speak to you. He knew what he had to bring up would not blow over right.

“We will have a stampede when people think Lecter is out,” Jack explained.

“Let them stampede. Authenticity. And let them think I helped Hannibal escape,” Will muttered.

“Authenticity?” 

“Someone has to be close. When the Dragon comes.” He turned to you. “And just one person.” For a moment, the other three people in that room let that sink in. It was a surprise even to Jack Crawford that Will would even suggest that he go somewhere without you. 

“Sorry?”

“You can’t come,” he repeated.

“No I heard you, I was letting you change your sentence.” 

“I don’t think you need to be there. You don’t.” You clenched your fist and looked away from him. You understood where he was coming from. There was no reason for you to be there. You would only be in the way and you had a child. It would be stupid.

But still.

Every piece of you wanted to be there with Will and Hannibal. You were always there with them. They were your boys. 

You shook your head slowly. 

“What do you suggest I do?” you asked. Will thought about that for a moment.

“Whatever you want.” You couldn’t look at him. He pulled a pocket knife out of his jacket pocket and handed it to you. You took it slowly but still looked away from him. “For if you need it.” You weren’t sure what that meant and you didn’t want to ask. 

-

You and Will walked into the room with Hannibal again. You had hoped to never have to see it again. He did not look surprised to see you this time.

“I thought you said your good-byes.”

“We’ve had one last good-bye between us.” Hannibal was tied up in a straight jacket. You hadn’t been this close to him for a while. You wanted to touch him but you held yourself back. 

“You didn’t just say good-bye, though, did you? That little extra bit at the end for you Will. It felt very final for both of you. I believe it’s called a ‘mic drop’. You dropped the mic, but here you are having to come back and pick it back up again,” Hannibal explained. There were nurses in there with you that stopped any kind of intimacy feeling you may have.

“I knew you would keep running if I kept chasing you. I knew you wanted me to know exactly where I could find you. When we needed you,” Will said.

“And you did,” Hannibal commented. 

“I need you, Hannibal,” you said. Will finished it off.

“Please.” 

-

Will stared at Hannibal in his cage. Even as Francis drove by, he stared at Hannibal. His mind became blurry. But still, he saw the outline of Hannibal’s face in the fog that was his mind as it crashed. People died. People were killed. 

Hannibal was let out. 

Will did not panic. He figured this would happen. He knew this would happen. 

When his mind regained his moment, he got up and stepped out of the broken car. Hannibal crossed to the police car as he took off his straight jacket. He opened the door and pulled the dead driver from the vehicle.

“What are you doing?” Will called.

“You know Will, you worry too much. You’d be so much more comfortable if you relaxed with yourself. Are you coming? He’s not going to kill us here. What he wants to do requires something a little more private.” Hannibal behind the wheel was an interesting scene. The side window was smashed, blood splashed across the inside of the windshield. Hannibal pulled up alongside Will, opened the passenger door and shoved a dead police officer out of the vehicle. He leaned over the seat.

“Going my way?” Will looked through the car door and then looked back down the road.

“You know it can’t just be the two of us,” Will said.

“It never was and never will be, just the two of us.” 

-

You sat in Jack’s office. Will’s pocket knife was in your hand tightly. You were getting a play by play that way which was the only reason you were truly there. You sat in a chair, head in one of your hands as you heard the voices go out and static. You looked up and Jack looked at you.

“What is that? What happened?” 

“Hold on.” He dialed a number.

There was an excruciatingly long moment in silence. You held your breath, biting your finger gently as you waited. Someone spoke on the other line. You couldn’t make out what they were saying. 

Then he hung up and looked at you. You stared back at him and waited.

“They were intercepted. We don’t know yet if there are any survivors.” You stared at him and he waited for that backlash. He was ready for it. But there was no anger that went over your face, instead it was just a small laugh. You shook your head and that laugh fell. 

He saw that face and he recognized the look in your eyes. 

“Do you remember the first judge of Will’s trial?” you asked quietly. 

“What?” 

“Do you. Remember. The first judge. In my husband's murder trial?” you asked again, louder this time. 

“Yeah. Hannibal killed him.” You widened your eyes and shook your head slowly.

“No. I did.”

He had no time to react. You opened the pocket knife and leaned across the desk, slashing his throat. 

-

You reached the motel room quickly after that. You pulled in at the same time you saw a car pull into the parking lot behind you. You got out of your car, hands still stained in Jack Crawford’s blood. The car slowed down beside you. You looked into it and the window rolled down, revealing Will in the passenger seat, Hannibal in the driver's seat.

You let out an audible sigh of relief. 

“Jack told me you were dead,” you said as you rushed to the window.

“Get in the back,” Will said gently. He went to grab your hand but stopped when he saw the blood. Hannibal noticed it at the same time. You did not address it, instead you got in the back of the car with them. 

Hannibal pulled out of the parking lot and away.

“The blood isn’t...the b-” Will started but you cut him off.

“No. I slit Jack Crawford’s throat,” you stated. Hannibal, pleasantly surprised, laughed. Will turned around to look at you. He didn’t look exactly surprised at you. More surprised at his lack of shock.

“About time,” Hannibal said. 

“Is he dead?” Will asked. You shrugged.

“I left before figuring that out.” 

You were so happy to be back beside the both of them. You just let out another sigh of relief.

-

You got out of the car and admired the scenery. It was such a Hannibal place, you weren’t even surprised. The sun setting, the cliff, the way the house stood on the Earth. So serendipitous. 

“The bluff is eroding. There was more land when I was here with Abigail. More land still when I was here with Miriam Lass,” Hannibal said. Will looked over the view and down the cliff a bit. Water, crashing. Gorgeous.

“Now you’re here with us,” Will said. 

“And the bluff is still eroding. You and I are suspended over the roiling Atlaninic. Soon all of this will be lost to sea,” Hannibal explained. You walked over to where Will lingered by the cliff. Hannibal walked away from you to find the key to the home. 

“This isn’t the right place for us to be,” he whispered.

“Yes it is,” you countered. 

“Running from the law with a child?”

“Sounds like something we would do and do well.” He looked over at you away from the view. 

“Let’s get your hands cleaned.” 

-

The sun set completely. The moon showed through the glass walls. You stared through the view and Will stood beside you, watching you watch your new life. He put his hand on your shoulder and you leaned into him as Hannibal walked into the room. Hannibal pulled a wine bottle from the rack and poured two glasses of wine. 

“I apologize that I cannot offer you any wine Y/N,” he said. You turned to him. Will’s hand dropped. 

“No worries.  I never liked it anyway,” you lied. Will took a glass. 

“You’re playing games with yourself in the dark of the moon,” Hannibal said, moving toward the window as well. “Wasn’t surprising that I heard from the Great Red Dragon. Was it surprising when you both heard from him?”

“Yes and no,” Will said. 

“Surprised me. I just wanted to sleep in my own bed,” you whispered. Hannibal smiled gently but that quickly fell off his features. 

“You intend to watch him kill me?” Hannibal questioned. You shook your head but Will spoke first.

“I intend to watch him change you.” Hannibal took that in, a sad smile on his face as he fingered the corkscrew. He saw it in his hands and wondered if he should kill you. Kill Will. Get it over with. Instead, he uses the tip to cut the seal on the wine bottle. 

“My compassion for you both is inconvenient,” Hannibal stated.

“If you’re partial to beef products, it’s inconvenient to be compassionate toward a cow,” Will muttered.

“Save yourself, kill them all?” Hannibal asked.

“I don’t know if we can save ourselves. And maybe that’s just fine,” you said. 

“No greater love hath man than to lay down his life for a friend’,” Hannibal recited. Will looked out the window and sensed the danger.

“He’s watching us now,” Will whispered. He looked at you and you looked back at him. You were staring at each other the second that the glass wall shattered, impaling Hannibal in the stomach. You turned quickly, moving toward Will subconsciously. Hannibal’s wine bottle dropped from his hand and a large red stain on his sweater blossomed with blood. Glass shards fell through the air and beyond them, the patio is just the black knight. In the darkness came Francis Dolarhyde.

Hannibal slid down to his knee. Blood pumping from the gunshot wound in his abdomen. Will grabbed you but Francis raised his gun to the two of you. 

“Don’t run. I’ll catch you.” Hannibal glanced down at his belly wound.

“Hello, Francis,” he said.

“Hello, Dr. Lecter,” he echoed. Francis pulled a tripod from his bag and tossed it to you before pointing the gun at your head. Will took the tripod from your hands and began to set it up. 

“I’m so happy you chose life, Francis. Suicide is the enemy.” 

“I had one rag of pride that Reba McClane gave me. It told me that suicide was a sorry end,” Francis explained.

“You were seized by a fantasy life with the brilliance and freshness and immediacy of childhood. It took you a step beyond alone.” Francis pulled out a 16-mm camera from his bag and handed it to you who fixed it on the tripod, still at gunpoint. 

“I’m going to film your death, Dr. Lecter, as dying, you meld with the strength of the Dragon.”

“It’s a glorious and rather discomfiting idea,” Hannibal muttered. You back away from the camera and he reached for the gun that was in his waistband. You wanted to reach for Will’s knife he had given you but hesitated. 

“Watching the film will be wonderful, but not as wonderful as the act itself.”

Before you even knew what was happening, a knife slammed in Will’s face. You screamed. Francis shot you in the stomach. You stumbled back and then moved forward again. Will fell through the broken wall you attacked Francis. You had enough strength to get him outside.

Francis lifted Will off the ground and Will stabbed him with the knife that was once in his cheek. As you found your own knife, Francis started to again fight Will. As you moved you saw Will rag-doll across the stones. Will’s blood spattered across the thick drops to the stone. He got to his hands and knees. You went to stab Francis again but he got to you first, slashing your side. It stunned you enough that you fell back on the stones beside your husband. 

Will pulled his gun out and Francis immediately disarmed him, tossing the gun over the bluff. You wanted to scream but nothing came out. Just as Francis went to slash him again Hannibal came out of the darkness. He tried to snap Franics neck but the man's neck was too strong and he swatted Hannibal away. 

The two of them staggered across the patio. You tried to get up and Will did as well. He tossed Hannibal off but you and Will were up again.

You started to use your knives on his legs, hoping to disarm him. Hannibal grabbed a hatchet that he found off to the side. He slammed it into Francis achilles tendon and then his knee. 

You, Will and Hannibal all stood now. Exhausted but equal. Francis bleeded from his wounds, leg destroyed. Hannibal staggered up to him and bit out Francis throat. He arched his back and blood fell all around him.

Eventually he fell and let out one last breath as he stared at Will in front of him. 

Dead. 

Will started to finally feel his wounds, as did you and Hannibal. He looked down at his hands which were drenched in red. 

“It really does look black in the moonlight,” he whispered. You didn’t know what he was talking about but you didn’t ask. You stumbled to Hannibal who caught you. In his other arm, Will stood. The three of you embraced, not quite hugging, not not hugging. 

You caught your breath together. The night was still otherwise. 

“See,” Hannibal breathed. You did not look up at him. Will’s head was against his chest. You were buried in his neck. You grabbed Will’s hand and he held it for dear life. “This is all I ever wanted for you,” he choked. “For all of us.” 

Hannibal sounded broken. 

You felt broken. 

Will looked broken.

You closed your eyes, brushing back the tears that you didn’t know were there. 

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered. And you weren’t lying. Will stared at you and he genuinely felt that it was beautiful. He felt what you did. A single tear cut through the blood on his face and fell. 

You held onto him and Hannibal tightly. 

These were your boys. These were the people you had risked it all for. And you did not regret it for even a moment.

Hannibal let out a shaky breath and you felt the Earth underneath you move. You felt the ground and then you did not. 

Where you once stood was drenched in blood. It was illuminated by the moon. If someone was to stand there, despite there no longer being a living person standing there, they would feel the emotions that had left. That place was no longer still. It was breathing. 

The sea underneath it was breathing. It had engulfed three people who loved each other more than anyone had loved anyone. 

The waves crashed against the rocks, the only noise left in the dark of the night.

[takethisroad]

Idk if you're still taking prompts but I'm tipsy and all my heart desires is Jack Rackham just fuckin. Feelin himself. Like he's got a great outfit on, gender expression is optional, he's just feelin beautiful and havin a good time. Bonus for any extra Anne being snarky/supportive, and bonus for VaneRackham because I'm weak for them, but truly anything goes

Listen, I am always taking prompts! Plus, I LOVE THIS. What a wonderful prompt! (I am also combining this with @snooksscribbles request for a “fashion-forward Jack moment” because do we not all love our favourite disaster pirate being at the cutting edge of the latest trends? We do.)

Also, this ficlet comes with its own meme.

Jack is a trans man in this. I am cis; any mistakes or misrepresentations are my fault alone.

Honestly, can we please all take a collective Moment to imagine - they’ve just come into port to refit and celebrate after their latest haul. Evening is falling fast as the sun sinks heavy beneath the choppy waves in the harbour, casting long blue shadows down the dusty streets of Nassau town.

It could be peaceful, if it weren’t for the raucous din coming from the brothel: drunken men, merchants and pirates alike hollering for ale and rum and whores; the jeering, bawdy laughter of onlookers at the gambling tables mixing with the tight high giggles of women pretending to be amused. Later, Jack knows, there will be fighting added to the mix; there always is, when the Ranger crew is ashore, no matter how recent the conquest at sea. Hallett will spit in Old Man Cooper’s drink, or Wilkins will crack one too many jokes about Price’s mum being a goat, and everything will devolve into fists and swords and slaughter until Jack goes down to do his duty as quartermaster, appeasing all the fragile egos and cleaning the mess up again.

But until then, he’s here. The rooms in the brothel aren’t soundproof by any means (and privately Jack thinks Max must like it that way, allowing her to keep a bead on the mood downstairs at any given time) but with the door closed and the room illuminated by the slanting rays of the sinking sun and the candles on the table, he can almost pretend. The flickering candlelight plays over the treasure trove spread across the bed. It is, if not the haul of a lifetime, at least the best haul this month to be sure. (Other men may not think so, but other men don’t have Jack’s flair for fashion.) He runs his hands reverently over the array of fabric: here, the slippery smoothness of a silk-lined waistcoat, there, the fine, airy weave of a muslin shift.

A snort draws his attention up from the pile of clothes to where Anne is holding a satin skirt like it’s a dead animal. “There’s dresses in this,” she says, in the tone of one handling something particularly gruesome or slimy.

“There are,” Jack murmurs in agreement while sizing up a burgundy wool coat. The silver thread used for the embroidery is unraveling in several places, but overall it seems serviceable enough. When he lowers it, Anne is still looking at him.

“You don’t like dresses. Don’t he know that?” Jack nods. “Why’d he give you this, then?”

"I believe he just crammed what he could into the crate,” Jack answers honestly. Then, at her skeptical look: “Darling, please let’s neither of us delude ourselves that Charles Vane would take the time to sort through petticoats and sashes during a raid.”

Anne drops the skirt. “Fine.” She stomps back over to the chair in the corner and flings herself into it, posture insolent as any man’s. Jack’s heart squeezes with almost painful fondness at the sight.

“I wouldn’t have taken it if it truly bothered me,” he says after a moment of her mulish silence. He knows she knows, but still, better to make it explicit. He wants to enjoy tonight and her and Vane at each other’s throats is not on the agenda.

There’s no reply from the chair, but the tight line of her lips eases slightly, which he counts as a victory. He turns his attention back to the clothes. Where to start?

The sun has set completely by the time Jack decides on an outfit. The candles are dripping wax onto the bare wood of the table, but their light is at least good enough to see himself by in the tarnished mirror. He twists one way, then the other, before turning to Anne. “What do you think?”

It’s quite a sight if he does say so himself. The blue silk chemise catches the light and ripples like waves with his every movement. He sheds his baldric to better admire the patterns of small flowers printed at the hems and collar; no expense was spared in this craftsmanship.

Anne has been silent. “Something the matter, darling?”

“No.” Then, a moment later: “Why’re you bothering? Getting all fancy for him?”

Jack pauses where he’d been fiddling with his favourite orange cravat. “For him? No, no this is for me.”

Anne looks at him suspiciously.

“It feels good. Sometimes one does things for no other reason than that.”

Anne stares at him a moment longer, as if parsing the veracity of his statement. She must reach a conclusion because she sighs and stands up. “It brings out your eyes.”

Jack fiddles with his rings to hide the smile her words bring to his lips. It doesn’t bring out his eyes; it does clash horribly with the yellow brocade justacorps he shrugs on. But he recognizes that comment for what it is: Anne, offering support, which is infinitely more wonderful to him than all the silk chemises in the world.

“Thank you,” he says softly. Then, as she heads towards the door, “I’ll be down in a minute.”

She nods once and is gone, leaving Jack alone in the room. He twists to the mirror again, admiring the swish and fall of the fabric, the rakish silhouette it creates. For a moment, he hears the rustling of silk and remembers the same sound, from long ago. He takes a breath and squares his shoulders, reminds himself of the years and oceans between now and then. He is not thirteen anymore, and now he has Anne, who will kill anyone who tries to put him in a dress. Even Charles. The thought is oddly comforting, and Jack whistles to himself as he takes one last indulgent look in the mirror and heads downstairs.

The sun may have gone down but the volume of the tavern has only gone up. Patrons are spilling rum and falling all over each other, turning the courtyard into a heaving mess of unwashed bodies and unintelligible voices. Jack pauses on the landing to take stock, noting the other crews that have since come in: he can see Sully, first mate of the Fortitude, cheating at cards with Joshua from the Walrus crew (he makes a mental note to be well clear of this place before Flint ever hears about it); a dozen other regulars are crowded round the bar, hoping against hope to barter for drinks on the house - more the fool they, for Max runs a tight ship.

The real focus of his attention is sitting in a grey haze of smoke off in a corner, and Jack makes his way down the stairs and through the throng of drunk, sweaty pirates with as much grace as he can muster. If he puts a bit of extra swagger in his walk, well. He's Jack bloody Rackham. He's earned it.

Charles is drinking from a tankard of rum. When he sees Jack, it hits the table with a thump.

"Evening, Charles."

A long slow exhalation of smoke. "Jack."

Jack doesn't shiver at the way Charles says his name, but it's close. He nudges at the toe of Charles' boot where his feet are propped on a chair. "Do you mind?"

In another time, in another life, if Jack were someone else, Charles might remove his feet only to kick the chair over, might spread his legs and leer, might drag Jack into his lap, why don't you have a seat here, sweetheart? This isn't that life. Charles removes his feet, shoves the chair and the rum towards Jack who takes both with a nod. He takes a quick swig of the rum, wincing slightly at the bitter burn.

Charles is still looking at him. His cigar is dangling from his fingers, slowly burning down. "The clothes fit, then?"

"Half of it was non-salvageable," Charles' fingers twitch, "but the pieces that were... Well." Jack gestures to himself. "If the clothes make the man, then I am well-made indeed."

"Huh," Charles says. And then: "You look good."

Plain. Simple. Easy. A statement of fact. It has no business sending a thrilling warmth through Jack's veins, and yet. He allows himself the slightest bit of preening. Then, emboldened by the burn of the rum and the weight of silk and brocade against his skin, "Thanks to you."

Charles has precious few tells but the way his eyes narrow fractionally at Jack's words is one of them. A heavy silence falls between them. Jack sits up straighter, squares his shoulders; he doesn't miss the way Charles' gaze tracks to the hollow of his throat.

"Fuck," Charles hisses, dropping the forgotten cigar which has burned down to his fingers. He crushes the stub under his boot heel and looks back to Jack.

"You know, nice as it is to get some peace and quiet -" Jack is cut off as a chair sails through the air to crash against the opposite wall, quickly followed by its occupant, "I was rather hoping we could do something other than sit and brood at each other all evening."

“Yeah?” Charles is leaning forward now, and Jack’s not even sure he knows it. His voice is a deep rumble. “What’d you have in mind?”

Jack plants a hand on the table, stands up. He’s warm from the rum, half-drunk on the freedom of his new clothes and the intoxicating weight of Charles’ dark gaze that hasn’t left him for a moment. He leans forward into Charles’ space and smiles, all teeth. “Why don’t I show you?”

[jazon-todd]

some (mostly negative sorry lol) thoughts

it’s obvious that these movies were made separately with no real plan on where the story should go once they cooked up the idea to start the trilogy back up again. 

and I don’t think it’s strictly rian johnson’s fault, this falls squarely on disney for not making this completely avoidable. rian had to try and work with what JJ left him, and JJ had to turn around and try to work with what rian left him. like if you’re going to have different directors, at least use the same writers. they clearly didn’t

It’s like…. way too much happened for one movie, while at the same time nothing actually happened at all. We’re back to the same exact point we were at at the end of return of the jedi, just this time all the skywalkers are dead

the first ten minutes I’m pretty sure actually gave me whiplash. going from a planet to another planet to another planet under 2.5 seconds with maybe 3 sentences of dialogue was migraine-inducing

palpatine looked like a fucking demon out of hell. my dad kept whispering DEW IT under his breath and I was losing it

he’s literally not explained at all, kylo knows he’s there, Rey knows he’s there, the FO and resistance know he’s there… and we’re just supposed to accept it lmao. apparently, he’s been there this whole time but now is when everyone starts to care 

palpatine also fucks, apparently

and like I get that this whole movie is about ~hope~ or whatever but it’s honestly just like this man railing a family for 3 generations and they all die before they’re free of him lmao

I really hate how luke and leia both knew rey was a palpatine all this time and still treated her like family anyway when they sent their on child and nephew away because he was “too much like vader” like what

the asian was shit all over once again, I literally do not trust white men with us but whatever

fight scenes were cool but way too quick, better than any we’ve had before in this trilogy. nothing has yet to touch duel of the fates or battle of the heroes though, rip r*ylo but obi wan, anakin, darth maul and qui gon are different

pacing was v weird

I’m really annoyed with how rey snapped at finn when all he wanted was to help her and didn’t tell him who she really was or what she was going through. they made her isolate herself from her friends and it was really ugly

they tried shoving what should have been three full-length movies into one

I guess JJ saying “we explain finn’s background and his family!!!” is just him meeting jannah and being like “oh we’re both ex stormtroopers? cool!” like ok, I was expecting actual backstory but okay

Not sure how rey and ben BOTH somehow got the power to heal someone

oh hey han

PACING WAS SO FUCKING WEIRD

this movie was clearly trying to do a lot of over-corrections from the last jedi instead of… letting it be. which just goes to show that disney shot itself in its trillion dollar foot because they for some reason tried going into a trilogy with different directors and writers for every movie 

great to see the knights of ren doing jack shit except get killed after 5 minutes total of screen time, literally what was the point of any of that. they sucked at their job

again, palpatine was great. didn’t know if we needed him for another trilogy, though. felt like we were beating a dead horse at this point. like, rey or kylo could have walked over and pulled the life support and he’d die in like a second

you could tell the last act was supposed to be emotional, but it moved so fast nothing resonated 

palpatine is just fucking stupid, like just stop shooting the lightning and he would have won, but whatever

no offense to kylo but idk how the weakest skywalker (she says subjectively) got the power to literally resurrect someone when anakin couldn’t even do it but I digress. it’s clearly that ~our true love can save us~ trope 

also speaking of anakin wasn’t ANYWHERE in this movie other than a quiet sentence even though he’s still the fucking chosen one, 0/10 automatically

like they had him say “bring back the balance as I have” LIKE OK IF THE BALANCE WAS TRULY BACK WHY IS THIS EVIL MAN STILL ALIVE HELLO I truly think the worst part of the trilogy is making anakin fail at what he was supposed to do

nice to know finn is force-sensitive FIFTEEN MINUTES BEFORE THE MOVIE ENDS AND WE NEVER SEE HIM AGAIN

actually cried like a little BITCH when ben saw that rey was dead and was holding her body I gtg

the reylo kiss was cute I guess, rey looked really happy 

like I always knew and said he would die……… but I felt like he deserved to live after what he did. idk tho. his death didn’t sit well with me the way vader’s, or luke’s, or leia’s did.

PACING WAS SO FUCKINGGGGGG WEIRDDDDDDD like when ben died and rey was looking down at him my theater was all upset and then it just switched right to everyone celebrating rather than rey mourning for like more than a second and everyone was literally like wait what

didn’t really like the ending all that much but rey also never really did much for me, so sorry rey stans

I still can’t believe she buried anakin’s lightsaber, the man who hates sand more than anything else in the entire world, on the planet he was enslaved on. like, I’m so lost on why these little details were just forgotten about.

not sure how I feel about rey taking on the skywalker name, like on the surface it’s pretty cool because it’s becoming more of a group name (like the new “jedi” title), but I also don’t like how much they were talking about how anyone can be powerful no matter where you come from, just to turn around and make her both a palpatine and a skywalker anyway. idk, more on that later

also not sure how I feel about her starting and ending the trilogy alone lmao but she clearly found her place (even though she’s literally fucking alone) so I guess it works out

liked her saber but idk the mechanisms behind it bc I thought they needed a certain metal to contain the kyber crystal, but that would actually require jj to refer to source material and we know he doesn’t look past the movies so

idk I’m feeling pretty cynical bc endgame sucked ass and GOT sucked ass and so I guess star wars had to suck ass to complete the shitty conclusion trifecta 

all in all, it’s a decent movie, I guess, the more I sit on it. there’s not that many issues I have even though above may seem like a lot, but….

as much as I love finn and rose and poe and what they have given me over the years……. disney should have left star wars be in regards to the trilogy. literally nothing is different from the return of the jedi to now, just that all the skywalkers are now dead and anakin/darth vader died for literally no reason but whatever

[rachwritesow-blog]

hey so i really liked your recent blackwatch fics so idk i guess this is kinda related? can you do the jack and gabriel's s/o reacting to their death? like after the hq explosion and they were both presumed dead what would the s/o be feeling at their funeral or something like that. idk, i think you get my gist. thank!!111!!!one!

a/n: This was kind of inspired by this video. I saw it shortly after getting this request and it helped with visualization and stuff. It’s a bit sad, but you should check it out!

Jack: 864 words.

Gabriel: 816 words.

~Fics under the cut~

Jack

The breeze blew quietly through the graveyard sending a chill up your spine. The day was grey and cold, seemingly perfect for the occasion. Everybody else had already left a while ago and you now stood alone. For some reason, you just couldn’t bring yourself to leave quite yet. You looked down at the headstone at your feet.

Here lies Jack Morrison. Commander: Overwatch.

It made you sick to your stomach to read those words again. You had hoped and prayed that you wouldn’t have to see them any time soon, yet here you were. The grave was surrounded by candles, flowers and little notes from some of your teammates. The sight was unreal and you couldn’t believe you were standing here looking at it.

Your head ached and your throat was sore from crying and sobbing over the past few days. You were out on a mission when the confrontation went down between Jack and Commander Reyes. When your group was returning home, they had to ground your plane at a different base since the headquarters had been completely demolished. You found out there from the head of the base that Jack was presumed dead.

Your friends tried to comfort you, but it made little difference. The man who you had hope to spend the rest of your life with was now dead and there was nothing anyone could do about it. The explosion was so powerful that they didn’t even find the bodies. Your heart ached for Jack, and you would never see him again. You tried to recount all your happy memories together, but it only made you miss him even more.

The two of you had been together a long while. You met back when you were transferred to work at headquarters a few years ago. Both of you denied having feelings for each other at first, but eventually you caved and started going out. Jack always thought it would be inappropriate to date a fellow agent at his status, but you kept on reassuring him that you loved him, and that as long as you both agreed to keep work separate, there was nothing wrong with it. He was always a little insecure about what other people might think, but he tried not to let it bother him too much.

You knew that Jack and Gabriel’s relationship with each other was fading as the years went on. In fact, it was turning into a rivalry in a way. Commander Reyes was always slightly bitter that he was not proclaimed Head of Overwatch, but it had gotten worse recently. He had started to resent Jack’s leadership. In fact, you had heard from different people around the base that Gabriel was forming a rebellion against Jack. You didn’t know what to believe and always tried to stay out of the drama, which Jack encouraged. He always said it wasn’t worth your time and that if you got involved, it would do more harm than good. When you were sent off on that mission, Jack met you before you boarded the plane, as he usually did. You were going to be gone for a week and he wanted to see you before you were off. He gave you a hug and told you that he loved you and to be safe. You didn’t know then that it would be the last interaction the two of you would ever have.

A raindrop hitting your nose suddenly pulled you from your thoughts. You looked up, and noticed the sky continued to grow darker. A storm must be on the way in, you thought. You bent down and looked at some of the notes that were left.

We’ll miss you. Hope you found peace.

You were a great Commander. Overwatch was lucky to have you.

A good man and an even better friend. You will be dearly missed. May you rest in peace.

Reading the kind words of your teammates brought tears to your eyes. It only added to the gravity of the situation, and reminded you that he was truly gone. You wiped your eyes as you felt the rain start to fall, soaking your outfit and everything around you. The cool rain felt good on your face, and its relaxing sound helped you drown out your sadness.

Just as the rain started, it stopped, or so you thought. All you knew is that you weren’t getting drenched anymore. You opened your eyes and looked up to see Lena standing over you with an umbrella.

“You don’t want to stay out here too long, love. You’ll catch a cold!” she says.

“I know. I just… found it really hard to leave.”

She helps you up and puts a hand on your shoulder.

“I know this is very hard for you, but I want you to remember that we’re here for you. All of us. We want to help you through this.”

You nod, and give her a hug.

“Well, let’s get you inside and out of that wet uniform. That’ll help you feel a bit better.”

With that, the two of you turned and left the cemetery, listening to the sound of the rain.

Gabriel

The day was somber. The looming clouds made the sky a gloomy grey. Fitting for the occasion, you thought. Tears welled in your eyes and threatened to spill onto your cheeks as they had the many days before. You looked down at the stone below you, carved with the words you wished you’d never have to see.

Here lies Gabriel Reyes. Commander: Blackwatch.

You and Gabe had been together for a few years now. He made you the happiest person alive and every day you spent with him was a good one. Originally, the two of you had tried to keep your relationship a secret, especially from Commander Morrison. However, people talk, and eventually it got hard to keep it hidden. After a while, the two of you decided to drop the secret and deal with any consequences that may arise. Luckily, nothing ever came up. Commander Morrison wasn’t exactly happy about it, but, there was nothing he could officially do.

You knew most of what went on over the last few years. After Venice, the tensions within Overwatch began to rise. Jack and Gabe weren’t getting along as they used to and they both kept dragging people into their fight. It was like a rift was formed between the two sides. As much as you loved Gabriel, you refused get involved in the fight. You didn’t see this as being your business. You feared that this petty argument would eventually turn into something much bigger, and you didn’t want any part of it. You expected Gabe to be angry with you for that, but instead he told you that you were probably very smart for not wanting any involvement. He just wanted you to be happy, regardless of your point of view.

The worst day was when Gabe came into your office only to see you packing up. You told him, with tears in your eyes, that you were being transferred to the Gibraltar base, along with a multitude of other agents. Gabriel was angry. He didn’t understand why Morrison would transfer you. Gabe thought it was to split you guys up, and this made him resent Jack even more. You told him that wasn’t important right now, and that the two of you should focus on enjoying your last few days on base together. The day you left, you two hugged each other and swore to keep in touch and see each other as often as possible. A week later, you were informed that Headquarters was destroyed, and many people were presumed dead, including both Commanders. They never found their bodies.

The next week was spent mostly alone in your room, crying and trying to come to terms with the news. You couldn’t believe it, Gabriel, the man you loved more than anyone else, was dead. You looked at all the old pictures and holo-vids the two of you took together and remembered the good memories you made. Never again, you thought to yourself. Eventually, the day of the funeral came. You put on your uniform and left your room.

The funeral had ended, and you were now alone in the cemetery. You read the markings again and again. Each time, it made your stomach twist with sadness and loss. You felt empty. Your knees shook and tears spilled onto your cheeks as a sob left your lips. Almost poetically, rain began to fall at that very moment. It soaked your hair and your uniform as you stood there, unable to move.

“I’m sorry Gabe,” you said through tears. “I love you.”

You stopped, and looked up suddenly. You felt like someone had been staring at you. Just beyond where you stood, there was a large tree. You could’ve sworn that you saw someone there out of the corner of your eye, but there was no one. You looked around, trying to catch any movement to see who was watching you. You took a few steps forward, before you were pulled out of your thoughts by a familiar voice.

“Y/N!” Reinhardt called out.

You turned and looked behind you to see him standing there with an umbrella, waiting for you.

“If you stay out here, you’re going to get sick,” he says quietly. “Why don’t you join us inside?”

“I know Rein, I’m sorry. I just needed to…”

Your voice trails off. Suddenly, you just can’t find the proper words. You reach up and wipe the tears from your eyes.

“I know, Y/N. Its okay,” he says.

Once again, you can’t stop the tears from falling and running down your face. You stifle your sobs and rub your eyes. Reinhardt walks over to you and puts an arm around your shoulder, beckoning you to leave. The two of you begin to walk out of the cemetery.

“We are all here for you, Y/N. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

[one-thousandlies]

Praying: Negan X Reader

The field was wide but your soul felt wider. You looked up to the sky, asking for an answer, knowing that there wasn’t one, at least not any time soon.

Your eyes fell down to see yourself cradling what was left of the life in your hands. Your son, bitten by those monsters. You couldn’t bring yourself to do it but you knew you had to. His wails became louder as the pain from his bite wouldn’t subside. You pulled out your knife knowing that you had to end his suffering as quickly and painless as possible.

You laid the hard steel against his soft temple before using your force to drive it all the way in. His wails became soft hums as you slipped the knife out from his head. It was done, no more time could be spared. You looked down at your baby boy, watching the blood mix into the tears dripping down his face. You let out a soft cry, taking over what he had stopped. You looked up to the clouds one more time before you plunged the steel into yourself, hoping to find your son in whatever life comes after death.

—————————————————————-

You woke up to a room full of bright lights.

“Is the heaven?” You ask, not realizing you said it out loud.

“No,” a mans voice said “not quite.”

You look towards him and watched the man as he sat down. He wore a long white coat and has a stethoscope hung around his neck. It didn’t take long for it to click to you that he was a doctor. Where did he come from? Where were you exactly? You don’t remember being around anyone in the field, you were positive you were by yourself.

Just then a heavy knock came from the door. The doctor jumped up and rushed to open it. By the time the door opened you heard a deep raspy voice break the the room.

“She awake?” He asked. The doctor nodded his head nervously at the other man.

“Perfect. You mind leaving the room for a second so I can have some one-on-one time with her? Ya know, man to woman?”

The doctor agreed hesitantly before grabbing some items and leaving the two of you alone in the room. You stared at him, looking him up and down, trying to crack something out of his body language. His posture was horrible, but he stood tall and confident. He adorned a leather jacket along with gray faded jeans and work boots. His black hair had hints of gray spread throughout its slick backed state. You seemed to be somewhat in awe of him.

He sat down beside your bed, keeping a physical distance but his eyes stared at you as if you were cheek to cheek with him. You stayed quiet, not knowing what to say.

“How ya feeling doll? Hopefully better”. He gave you a quizzical look, trying to get something out of you. You let out a deep sigh, the words getting choked up in your throat.

“You should have left me to die in that field. Saving me isn’t gonna do jack shit for you. I have nothing left to offer or to give.”

He gave you an intense looks, trying to find some comeback to what you said.

“We are the saviors, we save people, it’s what we do around here doll. People are a resource and I do what I can to keep as many alive as possible.”

He let out a sigh as he played with the light stubble hanging on his cheeks.

“I just got some questions for ya. First things first, why did you kill that baby out in the field? Didn’t look like a walker from what I could tell.”

You stayed silent as the memories from that day came flooding back to you.

“He was my son. I was out scavenging for items when I was attacked by a group of walkers. They bit him. There was no way I was gonna let him turn into one of those soulless shit heads.”

You breathed in deeply, trying to stop the tears that had formed in your eyes from rolling down your cheeks. The man shifted in his chair uncomfortably, trying to process what you just told him.

“Damn, that’s some rough shit, I’m sorry.” He paused for a moment before asking another question, “What was his name?”

“Giovanni.” You replied back. Even just saying his name was enough to let everything loose. You felt the hot tears roll down your cheeks, turning your head away so the stranger couldn’t see you cry. You didn’t want to seem week or vulnerable to him, it’s just not who you are. You never cry in front of people, let alone strangers.

The man smoothed his hair back with his gloved hand before going back to interrogating you.

“How old was he?”

“8 months.” You said with a sniffle. “Been raising him out in these woods. Gave birth to him out there too.”

He leaned back in his chair, a slight grin appearing across his lips.

“Damn, you’re a tough fuckin cookie aren’t ya? Takes a lot of guts to do what you did.”

He folded his arms against his chest before continuing.

“What about his father?”

“Dead. Eaten. Almost like everyone else.”

He seemed taken back by your statement, feeling the cold bloodedness of your words course through him.

“Shit, I’m sorry to hear about that doll. Nothing ever comes easy now does it?” He chuckled to himself. You scoffed at him. What type of sociopath chuckles at the thought of someone loosing someone they loved? The audacity of this ass hat. You didn’t know if you wanted to slap him or ignore him.

“I’m Negan by the way. May I be so bold to ask yours?”

“Y/N.” You said with a tense voice.

“Y/N.” He said back, rolling your name off his tongue as if he was tasting it.

“Well, it was nice chatting with you, hope you get better soon! Once the doc says your all recoperated I’ll give ya the low down on this place ok?”

He got up from his chair and headed toward the door, opening it and giving you a wink along with a devilish grin before leaving. You breathed out a sigh of relief once he left the room, you didn’t know how much longer you could stand being around him. He had such a cocky attitude.

You shifted yourself into a more comfortable position and closed your eyes, hoping that maybe a little more sleep could shake off the negative feelings that were growing inside of you.

—————————————————————-

So that was chapter 1, hope you guys liked it. If you want me to write more lmk! If you hated it then idk what to tell ya ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[fratresatrium-blog]

Alike in Dignity

ch: 1/5 (maybe 5? idk) (length of chapters will vary)

summary: an alt. post-cotbp where James Norrington did capture Jack Sparrow & co., but Lord Beckett being the Ultimate Douche™ goes ahead and tries to arrest Elizabeth Swann & William Turner anyway for engaging in piracy. When Governor Swann tries to send Elizabeth to England, she instead assumes a false name and fully commits to the life of piracy. She joins the crew of the Stargazer, and when the Captain dies in battle, she is the one in line to replace him. Naturally, the Royal Navy is compelled to go after Captain Kitely, the newest name on the Seven Seas. Angst + Norribeth ensues.

The ship had been spotted first yesterday. When the Captain of the Stargazer first heard the news, she knew it was no random, coincidental sighting. She knew those sails. Hell, she knew who commanded the vessel. She knew that he wouldn’t fall for the trick she usually pulled, exchanging her flag for that of a merchant vessel. At the report, she simply nodded and began to make preparations for battle.

When the pursuing ship did, at last, catch up, the crew was as prepared as it could be. The Captain was wearing a cloth over her lower face; someone might recognize her, and she couldn’t have that happening in the middle of this battle. Decks were crossed on both sides, cannons and guns deafened the ears of both pirate and naval officer. The ring of swords only added to the chaos. But it wasn’t enough. The crew of the Dauntless had higher training, better weapons, and more men. That of the Stargazer put up a fight, though, until her Captain whirled around and found the blade of a sword at her neck. On the other side was a man with a stern face and eyes that had seen too much. He wouldn’t hesitate to kill her if she tried to do anything but surrender; that much she knew. Commodore Norrington was, after all, the scourge of piracy.

In that moment, she hated him. He forced her to swallow her pride and give up -- it wasn’t death that was the problem. Death at that moment would be better than admitting defeat only to later feel the rope around her neck. But neither was she one for suicide. If this had to happen, she wished it would have been in the heat of battle. Not like this. Hesitant fingers released their grip on her sword, one by one, and the sound it made when it hit the deck seemed to silence the battle. Then and there, she vowed, to the best of her ability in her now-shortened life, to make his hell.

She watched in silence as the remainder of her crew was led to the Dauntless. She was proud; none made any escape attempt. They had learned from her very well; live as long as you can. Don’t do anything stupid. She was not to join them as they until later. The Commodore wanted to speak to her separately. Why, she could not fathom. Perhaps it was custom to inform the Captain that they and their crew would be hanged.

So when she found herself in his quarters, gazing at the simple surroundings, her guard was higher than it normally was. No concept of parley existed with the Navy. She walked in slowly. Footsteps and the click of a lock followed. Elizabeth took a deep breath, then turned to face him. The two stared at each other for a long moment.

“You made a wise choice,” the man said, at last.

“Did you expect anything else?” she replied.

“What I expected was immediate surrender.”

Elizabeth tilted her head slightly and raised an eyebrow. “Surely, you must know that doesn’t come with pirates.”

“It would have been wiser.”

Elizabeth did not speak to that.

“You’ve made quite a name for yourself, Theresa Kitely.”

Elizabeth smiled against the cloth. So, she had been correct -- he didn’t recognize her. She’d used the false name ever since she ran away from Port Royal two and a half years ago in pursuit of a more exciting life.

“It’s good to know I’ve been doing well in that regard, but come on, James. You know that’s not my name.”

She wasn’t sure if his expression of confusion broke through because of genuine curiosity or because he simply didn’t care about having his guard up in front of an unarmed female.

She raised her bound wrists to remove her cover slowly as she spoke: “Don’t you remember, once upon a time, how you were once going to be engaged to the Governor’s daughter? And then, the day of her wedding to another man, two and a half years ago… She disappeared?”

His expression said enough. “Elizabeth?”

“Oh, you do remember me. Thank God, this would have been terribly awkward otherwise.”

“This is what happened to you?”

“This is what I did to myself.”

“Don’t you know how worried your father has been?”

“If he still claims me as his daughter. I’ve not seen him since I left, you know that.”

“He thinks you dead.”

Her silence was the only indication of her surprise. His eyebrows furrowed slightly at it.

“Do you not care at all about how your actions have affected him?”

“He was going to send me to England. Alone. He’d not have seen me anyway.”

“But he would know you were safe. Alive, at any rate.”

“And will you be the one to tell him that I am not, in fact, dead, but will be the morning after we arrive? I was to be hanged even before I committed to piracy -- Lord Beckett ensured that. What has happened since will only have increased the need for a rope around my neck.”

Another period of silence.

The Commodore sighed. “He will not know.”

“Thank you.”

[jvcksonknight-blog]

      what up my name’s wesley i’m 19 and i never fucking learned how to read

my pronouns are he/him & i’ve got both skype and discord, hmu and i’ll give those out or i’ll tack a mun page up eventually we’ll see idk, tumblr im is always good too! 

at the moment i don’t have anything up on jack’s character ( like stats, etc ) because i’m ngl i sent my account in and immediately fell asleep until like.. now? at 12-1am hgfjdks buuuut here’s a run down of the basics. trigger warnings: drugs mention, violence mention, my muse is a survivor of CSA and i’m briefly going to mention that at some point in this. 

jackson knight.  you’ll know him as jack and if you’re real close to him, maybe some variation of jacky -- but a word to the wise, i wouldn’t test how close you are with him by trying that nickname out. it really ticks him off when it’s out of the wrong mouth. 

he’s twenty-eight years old and he’s always lived in morris, probably always will too tbh?? he’s a bartender at some ( how i imagine it, anyways ) dinky little pub that is frequented mostly by like, sketchy people & it’s no coincidence he works there because i’m pretty sure that’s where his little gang operates out of. i don’t think they’re really a proper gang, for the record.. every time i try to picture one in this small town setting i just come up thinking of like 3 dudes, maybe a mobster from 1930 ( kudos to sami on that one ), and a one eyed squirrel named hank, idk, idk. 

in all seriousness though whatever the gang is, probably like 20-30 people npc  or otherwise, i imagine it’s where most of the drugs circulate in this place and jack’s probably a muse yours would hit up for some bud. he’s been at it since he was literally thirteen years old and in a town as small as this, i really doubt that’s gone unnoticed reputation wise.

background.

backing up a little bit though and delving into his history a bit is pretty much a necessity to understanding who jack is as a character though because here’s the thing -- had things been a little different when he was young, he wouldn’t have gone down the path he did. but the facts are this: he was thirteen, his little brother noah was only nine, and their single mother could barely keep a roof over their heads, let alone keep up with noah’s hospital bills / medical expenses. you see, noah was -- and is -- a really sick guy, he has CVID and things were real tough growing up. jack took it upon himself to start bringing in money, but there isn’t a whole lot a thirteen year old kid can do that is yknow.. legal. so he meets a guy named david -- an npc who’s a father figure of sorts -- and starts getting involved in some heavy shit. i won’t go into detail but this is important to know: he didn’t do anything he didn’t have to, whether or protect himself or someone else... in particular, noah. that kid is his fuckin’ world. 

( csa mention coming up )  so, backing up further, i really just need to emphasize that jack has been protecting his brother for their entire lives -- in some ways noah knows, and in some that he doesn’t. as far as his mom and noah know, their dad just left, no word, no explanation, but to get right to the point, he had been abusing jack between the ages of 5-7. he stopped when he was around eight, but then when jack noticed him talking to his younger brother more and in an effort to make sure the same never happened to him, he confronted his dad and basically gave him an ultimatum ( while holding his dad’s own rifle at him, little jack was playing no games honestly ): leave and don’t come back, or i’ll tell and shoot you & that was just that. this is something that only jack knows to this day and it’s a very genuinely bad case of repressed trauma, but he simply isn’t the type of person who would seek help. it does affect him a lot, via nightmares and certain other distrust in relationships etc, as trauma will do to a person. character development wise, one of my goals is definitely to have him get some help / work through those issues but due to the nature of them, it’ll be kept extremely vague and heavily tagged if it even remotely comes up. ( csa tw end. )

when he was young, he missed a lot of school -- i mean, a lot of the time he was skipping to work, and even more often he’d be taking care of his brother at home. by the time he hits 10th grade, he drops out. to this day he remains without a g.e.d or anything of the sort, but i think it would be an interesting plot point if he decided to get it finally?? see, i picture him and his now 24 yr old brother live in an 2 bedroom apartment together (maybe one day i’ll bring him too~)  but now that noah’s grown up, he doesn’t need jack so much and all this time, he wasn’t really living for himself, you know? he doesn’t have the slightest clue what to do with himself if hes not providing for / protecting someone.

personality / extra !!

despite the whole rough, tough guy thing he’s got going on, jack’s a pretty mellow guy in most circumstances? i mean, he’s quiet. he keeps to himself and abides to that whole “only what i gotta do” when it comes to talking to people too. he’s a little dumb honestly but the guy has a 9th grade education at best go easy on him

he had to grow up real fast 

he’s really good with kids & anytime he sees them involved in shit they shouldn't be, getting them safe is his number 1 priority... kids are like, his soft spot i guess?? like if you hurt kids ur dead to him

honestly if not for the whole ‘been in a gang since 13 and probably-killed-a-man′ thing hes really ?? not that bad a guy like i keep laughing every time i say that but what can i say man like his moral alignment is probably chaotic good 

he does have two main interests: horror & poetry?? he wouldnt be caught dead admitting the latter but fun fact! his brother noah is a horror comic book author that goes by n.K and several of jacks poems / riddles have been featured in his books. 

[slowlyandrogynousmiracle]

Black Sails 4×9 Thoughts

God Bless Hands for reading this shit correctly. You gotta love that he calls Flint out on all his bullshit. He knows Flint has been playing Silver like a fiddle and that the man is persuasive. It’s a talent, I will give him that. But guys seriously can you not see the way he fucks over Silver. It’s horrible. He immediately gives him this hurt look to disarm him when they meet and I'm like....oh no no no. He cant kill Silver obviously because how the hell will he cover his own story, particularly at the Maroon Camp where Silver’s army awaits. Explain stealing the cache and killing the King. Hmmm. And then he used Madi’s name to bring him to heel. He literally used the thought of losing her against him!!! How awful and "if" I help save Madi??? Omg Flint really.

What was the problem with letting Rodgers have the cache THEN attacking him if you were just going to take Nassau? Silver promised to make it right. FLINT made this shit worst because you KNOW deep down Silver has surpassed him on that boat and the cache is the only card he has left to play

Because CLEARY whatever he’s preaching, no one gives a fuck about other than the plunder. The pirates are thinking of sacking as spoils...not freedom. He knows that. And these are the men he wants to lead a revolution….people who want a revolution just to loot?

Am I the ONLY sane one!!!! Silver knew exactly what and why Flint did what he did. He knows that despite their “friendship” he’ll still never let Silver do anything that isn’t supported by him and straight up, that’s not healthy. It’s not nearly as true a friendship as Silver has been to it. Fuck all the selfish motivation noise, everyone is selfish! Silver broke it to him last episode that despite him not agreeing or understanding or supporting he did it and Flint cannot return the favor? Just this once even if he don't agree? And now he’s clearly using Johns insecurity about Madi believing he’s enough to play on him because he thinks he’s that good and because he really can’t do this without Silver. That’s not a sentiment. It’s a fact.

If anything this episode truly exposed the unequal balance between these two and how dare ANYONE say Silver is acting crazy. No, he’s realizing some truths and even then he paused at the thought of killing him. HE didn’t want this to happen. Flint made this happen. I’m sorry but I would not find giving up my most cherished loved one via a battle for something you don’t believe in even if they do. And all that Madi talk was supposition on Flint's part. Yeah we know what she said but Flint and Silver have no idea. And who's to say she can't after hearing everything understand Silvers stance?

And I get Silvers desperation because he led her to him. Imagine the guilt if she’s slain while Flint used her story to continue his own destructive path for again no altruistic reasons. And no, I think Silver telling Madi about Flint's past wasn’t inappropriate. It’s his lover and wife in his eyes. Honesty is something that exists between them and they trust each other enough with the secrets. She shares his burden with him as a tether. She's never told so this anger Silver trusted her with this is just stupid. Flint didn't make him pinky swear. And he obviously told her to get her to understand his loyalty to Flint when SHE was the one completely distrustful of him. She was right to be worried and he convinced her otherwise. Her dying because of that...yeah I'd be feeling some kind of way too.

I wonder if he told her his backstory. The flashbacks looked incomplete. And what the hell happened Silver? Seems like a loss he never got over. A mother or family attacked…omg what if it’s by pirates lol no seriously though something BAD happened and him not telling Flint was that part of Silver that has always remembered who Flint is. I feel like Flint would have had a huge weapon against him and if you feel the need,again, to protect yourself from someone it is not a good sign of friendship.

I have a feeling his backstory is obviously connected to why he will burn it all for Madi though I felt cock teased we didn’t get it. WTF Starz.

Billy was Billy. He better not hurt my Madi!!!!was that his arm in the preview with the knife ?

Lastly to Madi. I loved her dragging Woodes for filth and speaking her truth. What she said was absolutely correct and valid…..buttttt….some observations.

A. She looked terrified. She has resigned that she will die and she’s clearly out of her depth with the real world.

B. Everything Woodes said to her was true. Hate Woodes all you want. She was right in placing Eleanor’s death on the correct door but she is lucky! That he is choosing to have her brought to his cabin and talk to her is more than anyone else would do personal feelings aside. Everyone on that Island was raped or killed. She is in the eyed of the law property but speaks to her like person. He could have had her tortured for info. He could have given her to the Spanish in angerm Yeah she truly is lucky and she DOESN'T know it. >Yes as a black woman I was totally clapping when she told him about her people’s suffering. But again this is where her sheltered life becomes apparent as she says she is doing it for her people when she hasn’t spoken with her people. Things have happened that she remains unaware of.

Does she even know Flint stole the cache? She is speaking on half info so her remaining her stance does not equate her siding against Silver or means she may side with Flint against Silver. Oh no. If anything the speech gave us clues to her own wavering as well as the obvious emotional state she is in. She’s resigned that she’ll die. She will accept the martyr role if it sparks the cause. But she said, “Flint’s war” and “my war” They are as aligned as their shared purpose which we all know looking in is not exactly the same.

I mentioned it in another post but how can one person choose for a group of people? You know I love her but I feel like in fairness to her people they should get to decide what they can and cannot live with it it willing to sacrifice for. Julius understands this because he’s been in those chains longer than Madi and as smart as she is she isn’t street smart as they say. I hope this is brought up. Because imagine it like this. What if Germany offered a peace treaty days before D-Day and the president never told the American people? Wouldn't you have at least considered or even after all the horrible things done if it avoided bloodshed? Even if it didn't comes with everything to avoid that many men? Dictatorship on any level even for the better of her people is still not ok and that's not just in the show but I'm life as someone issuing out ultimatums recently learned.

Both she and Flint are dictators and Id be remiss in pointing out that both are wrong in believing they alone can dictate the course of this "war" but Zethu was right. Silver has to reign wifey in.

I wanted more of her of course.

And I can almost pinpoint where Flint fucked up in his speech. “ you cannot tell a story that will make her forgive that ” Did you just tell the master storyteller who even fooled you he was an orphan for the past however long? to come up with a tale Ha. That’s LJS speciality right there and he learned from the master! He may think Madi is dead right now or worse since Woodes has no use for her now, at least that’s what Silver is thinking and where does that leave you Flint?!.

Look at Jack lol He’s going to be the rescue plan but so many things will go wrong for him. The stroke guy should have been the sign to turn back

Ben Gunn’ s tragic marooning.

Who has a knife to Madi? Really, Flint is going to keep with the Koolaid. Dude. Dude. Duuuuuddddeeee. DeGroot is dead. Have you no soul man! He thinks making it mean something gives him a pass on all the death he’s caused. Poor thing. I almost want to hug him and then snuff him out for his own good.

Woodes wants Flint alive? Why? Why do I suspect Flint ends up with WR as Billy has to get the map? Omg I hope Billy and Flint don’t collaborate to use Madi to get Silver to back down though why Idk…

Great episode overall. I don’t get the complaints. The story was consistent with everything and its playing out beautifully. The sword teaching was awesome. R.I.P. Walrus.