#it also says that most of them were cannibalized and like okay WELL

[exoexid]

getting emotional about the closing lines of this book i'm reading about the interdisciplinar study of some of the neanderthal remais found in El Sidrón cave: "... one of the adult women was most likely a redhead; they made tools with local materials, but they knew they could get something different from mountains a little far away and weren't afraid of making the trip; this teenager boy (the iconic n° 1253 that helped us in partially sequencing ancient neanderthal mtDNA) presented modifications in the amino acids of the FoxP2 gene (a gene crucial for language) that are also found in the gene of modern humans; they could register bitter taste, but in a milder way than modern humans can (...) they were humans, just like us, with their successes and their miseries."

[txttletale]

hey not trying to be a shithead but genuinely curious; and not saying it isnt, but what makes honest hearts like super racist? because, okay its been a while but i dont remember it being *that* bad?

am i missing something? (probably)

well, essentially, the whole dlc hinges its plot on its idea of 'tribal' society vs. 'civilized' society. this is like... a distinction with origins in 19th century scientific racism used to argue that indigenous peoples were 'primitive' and 'backwards', a lesser form of life compared to the more developed 'civilized' people. and this is a distinction that is everywhere in all the fallout games, including new vegas (i think it's super fucking racist that the white gloves practice of cannibalism is constantly narratively linked to their 'tribal origins' and described in the terms of a regression or degeneration)--but honest hearts is about it and so it's really inescapable.

joshua sawyer can say whatever he likes about multi-ethnic diverse groups or whatever but the tribes in honest hearts are very clearly inspired by racist stereotypes about native americans--they are naive, gullible morons (follows-chalk can't understand the concept of a casino) at worst and noble savages with (textually) biblical innocence at best. their names, their art, their societies--all just a white guy's idea of "vaguely native american" without any research or care.

and imo worst of all (and this is something im aware the devs have properly acknowledged) they have absolutely no agency--your role in the dlc is to be a "civilized" outsider who tells them which of two white "civilized" mormons to listen to. none of the 'tribals' are able to make their own decisions or lead themselves--they need a mormon missionary to tell them what to do! there is no way to resolve the dlc without picking which white mormon missionary they should listen to other than just murdering everyone indiscriminately.

and, like--i am aware that honest hearts thinks it is gesturing towards a critique of these ideas. you can criticize the paternalism daniel shows towards the sorrows, and the dlc clearly intended it to be criticized--but that criticism is weak and hollow when the only way to follow up on it is to put a different white mormon in charge. it is the most archetypal white saviour narrative possible--and yes, i also know daniel was 'supposed to be asian', but that doesn't change anything because he is in fact, as the "civilized" missionary preaching paternalistically to the "primitive tribals", fundamentally white-coded

so i mean yea it's racist because it relies on racist stereotypes about native americans, mandates that a white person come and take charge of these poor stupid 'tribes'--but even if you changed all that, it's fundamentally about an idea of 'civilization vs. tribal society' that it accepts as a true and meaningful distinction as its core premise, and that is just a straight up racist premise.

(and the reason i keep bringing up that both daniel and josh are mormons is that mormons have a long and storied history of brutal violence and colonialism against indigenous peoples, from their original violent settlement of utah to their 'indian placement program' to their deeply racist scripture, which makes their portrayal as benevolent white saviours particularly galling and repulsive)

[alastorsbookie10228]

Alastor with a mommy kink

warnings: smut (obvi), fem!reader (i can write male as well, just ask), sub!Alastor, p in v, oral f! receiving, mommy kink (also obvi), most likely poorly written. this is my first time writing smut

Alastor doesn't find sex appealing, and he never has. he died a virgin, and he never had a problem with that. sure, he'd have his little flings, but he never went all the way with them, deeming it unnecessary.

that is, until he met you.

he couldn't seem to take his attention off of you when you were in the same room as him, eventually deciding he'd take you to Cannibal Town on a date 4 months in to meeting you.

it was no surprise that you said yes to that offer. you'd be crazy not to. Alastor was a gentleman, a handsome gentleman at that.

5 dates in, and you both agreed to put a label on the both of you, him properly claiming you as his girl through one of his broadcasts.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Alastor walked in to the bedroom you both shared, a needy look in his eyes and a whimper threatening to leave his lips.

you immediately took notice and placed your book on the bedside table and walked over to him.

"Alastor, you okay?" you ask, placing a hand on his arm. you heard the scratch of radio static when you did that, and when your eyes met his, you noticed the almost begging gaze boring into you.

"my dear, it seems as though i'm having some...cravings" Alastor says, and you tilt your head, confused.

"what, like, cannibalism cravings?" you ask, and he shakes his head.

he grabs one of your hands gently and guides you to the bed, laying you on your back. he strips himself of his coat, bowtie, and gloves, folding them neatly on the desk nearby. by the time he had made it back to where you were placed on the bed, the middle of your white cotton panties were stained grey.

Alastor reaches for the hem of your sleep shorts, tugging them down quickly along with your panties. he climbs onto the bed, causing you to slide back until your back was against the headboard.

Alastor looked up at you with almost innocent eyes, his red irises boring into you affectionately as he lowered his face down to where you needed him most.

he licked a stripe up your slit, earning a moan from you in return. he put both of your thighs on his shoulders, burying his face deeper in your heat.

he circled your clit with his tongue and stuck a finger into your glistening hole, making your eyes roll back. you gripped his hair on the crown of his head, your wrist resting between his antlers. you pushed his head in more as you moaned loudly.

Alastor stuck two fingers inside you, immediately curling them, making you squeal with pleasure. you back arched up and you felt the coil inside your lower stomach tighten. apparently Alastor did too, because he added a third finger and fucked his hand into you harder. you threw your head back and damn near screamed bloody murder as you came on his face.

after coming down from your high, you look down to see Alastor sucking his fingers clean and wiping his face with the back of his hand.

“you taste divine, my dear.” he said, and before you could protest, you were on top of him, his hands securely on your waist.

“please, remove this tacky material before i shred it.” he said, tugging at your shirt.

to avoid any issues, you quickly tug it up and over your head, not caring where it landed. you reach for his pants and tug down the zipper, easily unbuttoning them and taking them off of his slender legs.

you fold them neatly and toss them onto the chair close to the bed, knowing he’d have a fit if they were wrinkled.

you reach up and unbutton his shirt, doing the same and tossing it to the chair. you lean down and kiss him hungrily, allowing him to guide you onto him.

as you slid down his hard length, a soft moan slipped from both of you. your knees gave out and you sunk all the way down, your clit brushing perfectly over his pelvic bone.

"oh my god." you moan, your head falling limply. with a laugh, Alastor places his hands on your hips and begins to move you up and down, making whimpers and moans seep through your lips.

you move your hands onto his biceps and hold onto them tightly, trying to ground yourself through all of the mind-fuzzing pleasure you're feeling from Alastor's cock seeping in and out of your dripping hole.

"mmmmh, fuck." Alastor groans, his radio filter absent. that alone had you closer to the edge than you'd like to admit. Alastor twitches slightly inside of you, making your body give out more due to pleasure. you lean forward slightly, allowing Alastor's cock to hit the spongey area deep inside you. you let out a loud moan, mumbling gibberish, your mind too clouded with pleasure to even function.

you feel the coil in your lower stomach start to tighten and whimper. "Al, 'm gonna cum soon." you say softly, small whimpers and gasps littered through your sentence. you feel Alastor twitch again, and more frequently, making you assume he is too.

you unintentionally clench harshly onto his twitching cock, making him groan loudly. "mmh, mommy!" he yelps in pleasure, making your eyes snap open.

"what?" you asked, surprise and confusion bubbling with the extreme arousal and pleasure coursing through your veins. "what'd you say?"

Alastor's neck turns slightly red, along with his cheeks. "I said- mmh- I said mommy." he admits shyly.

the word you'd only expect to hear from miniature you's came from the lips of your partner. you didn't expect it to, but it did wonderful things to you. It made your clit ache and the coil in your stomach tighten.

"fuck, say it again, please." you beg, moving your hands to his shoulders, allowing him to hit deeper. he groans out and fucks up into you pathetically. "fuck, mommy! oh, close!" he grunts and whimpers helplessly, making the coil in your stomach snap.

you whimper and throw your head back, your hips rolling against his to help you ride out your high. your eyes roll back and you see stars as you cum onto him, clenching harshly onto his pathetically hard member.

he whimpers softly and bucks up into you once more, releasing his hot seed into your cunt in strips. the feeling alone is almost euphoric, causing a moan to slip from your lips. you sigh in pleasure and slump down onto him, exhausted and comfortable, despite him still being buried inside your deliciously tight cunt.

"that was nice.* Alastor says softly, making you snap your head up. "the way you sounded didn't seem like just nice to me." Alastor looks away, his grin slightly strained, making you laugh. you lean up and place a small kiss on his chin.

"it's alright, i think mommy sounds hot coming from your mouth." Alastor's head turns slowly to face you, making you laugh loudly. his eyes are wide and his smile is very strained. you feel him buck up into you and sigh. time for round two.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

holy shit that took so long to write. I'm so sorry! I'm about to move houses, so I've been packing and staying stressed tf out 😭 but I hope you enjoyed this!

[soupdwelling]

ITS TIME. this is my essay on why the chasity family are cannibals

okay so obviously this started with that one line from hatchet town “careful or your kids might end up on karens plate! she just ate!” but i like to imagine the “chasitys are cannibals” is just a running joke in hatchetfield, or maybe a rumor. most people don’t actually think they’re cannibals but it’s just something people say to get under karen’s skin because that’s fun.

but i like to imagine this rumor started with actual evidence of something. it’s not just like one day someone said “it would be funny to say this about karen lmao” it’s more like “possibly human remains were found in the chasity’s freezer but this is kind of a normal occurrence in hatchetfield so we’re just going to turn it into a joke”

ALSO. that one scene in npmd right before dirty girl and basically just every scene where the chasitys interact feels kind of off. its definitely giving the trope of “this a perfect utopia oh wait it’s actually really fucked up and dark when you think about it for a minute” like imagine in the dinner scene the “mouthful of mothers meatloaf” is fully some guys liver. and then karen chasity is like “oh i couldn’t have done it without you mark, you work so hard dragging all of these corpses into our basement!”

this also works with the “this is hatchetfield, people go missing every day” line because the chasitys are killing all of them and fucking eating them!! this can also account for why grace was so confident she’d get away with max’s murder because she’s so used to living in a cannibalistic murder family that it doesn’t cross her mind to worry. she just didn’t account for the fact that this specific murder would be more trackable because she didn’t yknow. eat maxs corpse so it was still there for the cops to find

grace’s entire personality in general is also really concerning! like, she’s fucking insane obviously! but why? she probably didn’t just pop out of the womb like that right? well, maybe it’s because she has been RAISED by crazy people. obviously her parents are very intensely christian but even the most devoted of christians don’t usually summon five eldritch demons to do their bidding. like! that is most definitely not normal! so it makes complete sense that grace’s insanity runs in the family they are cannibals they eat people

i promise i’m almost done but i would LOVE a nightmare time episode about the chasitys being cannibals i feel like that has so much crazy potential especially considering their personalities i just love the idea of a typical american christian family sitting down together for dinner and saying grace with someone’s fucking BRAIN on the plate in front of them. like that’s fucking insane.

could you IMAGINE a nmt episode of karen chasity seducing Ted and luring him into her home only for mark and grace to come bursting out of the closet wielding kitchen knives? i would kill to see that.

[sciencebecameouraddiction]

Could I request a Valentino x Fem! Reader? I know not a lot of people like him because of yk ಥ_ಥ

But basically the hazbin hotel crew are looking for ways to break Angel out of his contract with Valentino and ended up going to the reader because Angel said she was the most tolerable vee-

So reader is one of the vees and is a dance choreographer and owns the souls of her dancer

Anyways the hazbin hotel crew arrived at her studio not knowing the other vees were there. Angel dust noticed them and the crew tried to become unnoticed and eventually saw the reader dancing and dancers watching her steps

The crew get closer to the vees and overhears their conversation, basically Valentino worshipping the reader and the crew is shocked of Valentino's relationship with the reader

Little note; The reader and Valentino are in a relationship ;p

Thank you! 😊

So, first can I say I loved this prompt idea and it was so interesting! Like seriously love this idea.

I can understand why people are wary to write for him and why there’s not a lot of Valentino stuff out there. To be quite honest, I probably won’t write for Val on like my own posting, like the fics/headcannons I create just because and post, but I know there are people who do like him and want to see content so I keep Val as a writing option open in the requests.

All that said, I do LOVE the dynamic you gave here though, so i made the reader a little bit more assertive and definitely gives the vibes she wears the pants in the relationship kinda thing. I think for a healthy relationship, or at least as close to one as possible, who ever is involved with Val has to push back and he has to allow it. Is that respect on his part to allow it or love idk.

This was definitely a challenge for me, but we got it done! I do apologize for this long intro and response, I do really hope you enjoy and thank you for the request!

rating: PG

genre: fluffy/slight angst

characters: Valentino x reader (Val is somewhat OOC)

warnings: talk of how Val treats people, soul owning

“Okay, so, we need a plan!” Charlie said, looking determined standing in front of Angel, Vaggie, Husk, Nifty, Cherri and Alastor. After learning that Sir Pentious was redeemed, Angel wanted to turn over a new leaf and was more serious about redemption. The only thing holding him back, was that Val owned his soul.

“I don’t know if ya goin’ ta be able to pull this off Charlie.” Angel said, looking skeptical.

“That is not the spirit we need! We can do this, we just have to think of a way.” Charlie looked at the group and her eyes fell on Alastor. “Alastor, you’re an overlord. How do we get Angel’s soul back?”

“I could go eat Valentino.” Alastor said, his smile widening.

“No. I don’t want turf war or any war involving us and the Vees.” Vaggie said. Charlie nodded.

“That’s true.” Charlie agreed.

“It would have been more fun.” Alastor said with a shrug.

“For who?” Husk asked, looking at Alastor.

“For me, of course Husker!” Alastor laughed. “Though there is something you can try…” Alastor trailed off.

Everyone looked at him expectantly. “Oh, I figured you all had thought about this already. The moth has a special little toy that does all the media dance choreography, she also owns a studio too. Sweet little thing. Met her in cannibal town a few times as she was passing through.” Alastor mentioned.

“That’s right.” Angel murmured. “I had heard rumors that she was the fourth Vee. She’s an overlord and owns all her dancers souls. She’s crazy powerful.” Angel added.

“Then let’s go talk to her!” Charlie said!

“You talking to people doesn’t always go well.” Nifty popped into the conversation before running off.

“She has a point.” Husk said as Charlie deflated.

“Why don’t we infiltrate one of her classes? Can anyone pull up the schedule, they have to have a class schedule right?” Vaggie looked around as Angel grabbed his phone.

“There’s a class tonight in just a few hours. And she’s leading it.” Angel whispered.

“Okay, so we get in the class. We stay after and we talk to her.” Vaggie planned out. Everyone nodded.

“Okay, let’s get changed and ready for a dance class!” Charlie exclaimed.

——————————————————

It was soon decided after, that Charlie, Vaggie and Angel would be going. Alastor would be close by in case anything was needed, leaving Nifty and Husk at the hotel.

Getting into the dance class was easy. No one recognized them, until they all three stepped into the class and realized that all the Vees were there. Val, Vox and Velvette, all present for this class and Y/N, the fourth Vee, was just standing there chatting away, saying something that the Vees genuinely laughed at. Thankfully, Vox and Velvette left, stating they were going shopping and then would save a seat at some restaurant. Valentino on the other hand sat down near the back, just watching.

You commanded the dancers and the presence of the room effortlessly as she taught new choreography. By the end, even Charlie was impressed as she had learned a lot. Angel on the other hand had never looked happier. This was all he ever wanted to do. Dance and sing, perform. He sighed as class wrapped up and he drank some water, trying to blend in. He happened to hear Valentino and you talking, so he motioned Charlie and Vaggie over to listen.

“You were so fluid baby, and the way that you commanded the room. You showed all those little sluts exactly who’s in charge.” He praised you, and you smiled at him.

“Val, what did we say about not calling my dancers sluts or whores?” You said.

“Uh, not to?” Val asked. You nodded.

“Just because I own their souls or will own their souls doesn’t mean it can’t be respectful.” You responded cleaning up, and picking up on three figures still lingering and doing a pretty shitty job at hiding they were.

“But you own their souls baby. You have to show them who’s boss! And look sexy while doing it!” Val exclaimed.

“Didn’t I show them whose boss, pretty?” You ask Val and cross over to him. “Didn’t you see the way they listened and followed every step of mine?”

“I-uh-yes.” Val stammered out his cheeks aflame.

“Then don’t worry.” You said and cupped his cheek.

“I know, mi amor. I’m just-“ Val starts.

“I know. You’re scared of one of them loosing it on me? Like what happened to you?” You ask and watch Val nod, his eyes closed. “I’ve told you that I think you pushed them too far. Your mind comes up with some of the most interesting yet perverse ideas.” You sigh and grab his hand. “I’m fine. I’ve been an overlord longer than I’ve been with the Vees.” Val nods and kisses your forehead.

“Go on and catch up with Vel and Vox, I’ll be right there.” You say cleaning up.

“But amor, I want to spend more time with you-“ Val protests.

“No, go on, I know you’re hungry and I need to make sure the space is ready for tomorrow. Vel wants to practice that main number.” You say pushing him out. “I won’t be long darlin’. Then we can spend all night together.” You grin at Val.

“You always know just the right thing to say, beautiful. I’ll be timing how long you’re gone.” Val jokes and you roll your eyes.

“Mmmhmmm, go on lover boy.” You wave and watch him leave and wait until he’s out of eye sight.

“You three are bold to come here.” You say still cleaning up. You see the three people stiffen who were waiting around. “You didn’t think I’d notice you?” You ask, flicking your wrist and dropping the curtains and making the video feed loop so Vox couldn’t watch.

“What are you doing here Angel?” You ask walking up to them. His eyes widen and you see two other women with him.

“How do you know who I am?” Angel asks, suspicious.

“Because, you have caused the most fights in mine and Val’s relationship. We almost broke up over you one time.” You say, leaning against the mirrors in the back, all three of their eyes widening. “Not because of his connection to you either doll. Because I don’t like the way he treats you.” Angel looked at you, eyes still wide, almost like he wasn’t believing.

“We’re trying to get Angel’s soul back.” Charlie mentioned.

“And you want that contract from Valentio?” You ask, laughing. “It would take almost prying it out of his cold, dead hands. I don’t know what you’ve done, but you are his favorite.” You shake your head and look at Angel who looks ready to cry. Your eyebrows raise.

“I know. I know I am and I don’t know why. I’ve tried-I’ve tried not to be. When I started this he said I could perform and I wanted to perform. Not like now but sing, ya know. Dance?” Angel’s tears fall over and you nod.

“Is there anything you can do?” Vaggie asks.

“Well I was watching you during class, you’re naturally talented. I could start breaking down Val’s resolve and have him transfer the contract to me, so you could be one of my dancers. My performers. If you worked at it, I could easily put you in my elite group.” You offered. Angel’s eyes widened with hope.

“But it will take some time and you must NOT say a word unless I direct you to. I mean it. Otherwise it will end badly for both of us.” Angel nods and you start walking them out. Alastor appearing in front of you at the door.

“Oh my goodness! Alastor! What are you doing here? Are you finally going to take a class to learn some more modern moves?” You joke and he laughs.

“No, my dancing is just fine dear. I see you found our little infiltrators.” He chuckles.

“I did. You were not kidding when you said Angel was a natural.” You smiled.

“You contacted her before?” Charlie asked.

“Of course! I wanted her to see Angel and how he performs. He’s quite the natural?” Alastor asks.

“Smiles, you didn’t have ta…” Angel trails off.

“I know I don’t have to do anything. I was paying back a favor to a friend of mine who needs some good talent in her group.” Alastor said looking at you. You sigh and half nod.

“The numbers dwindle each year and the talent get halved each year. At try outs I’m lucky if I can get 5 talented new people.” Alastor hums in sympathy as you look outside.

“You all need to get back though. Alastor can you shadow travel them at least out of the area? I fear Vox will be watching to see where I’m at.” You explain and magically draw the curtains getting everything ready for lock up.

“Of course.” Alastor says, looking at the three. They step closer and before anyone can do anything Angel runs to you and hugs you. You stiffen for a moment and the laugh.

“It’s all right honey. We’ll figure it out, just be strong until then all right? I’ll harp on Val to be nicer.” Angel nods and then goes back to the group.

“Pleasure meeting you Princess, Vaggie! I’ll see you around Angel and always good talking to you Alastor!” They wave and are submerged in darkness and gone from your shop. You walk out and lock the front door, seeing the security camera turn to you. You wave and send a text telling the crew you’re on your way. Helping Angel would certainly be a benefit to your dancers when he joined you, and join you he would.

[curlyhairedbooklover]

What is the gender spilt of the murders in NBC Hannibal?

This is the third of three posts though this one works as a standalone, the first two are about the characters saying each other’s names and can be found here and here (I promise they are much more interesting than that summary makes them sound….) I decided to make this post because of this quote from Bryan Fuller; “And we are very conscious in the writer’s room; ‘Okay we just killed a woman, we have to kill a guy now.’” (47:20) And I always wondered how well they actually managed to do that…. thus I went out and collected the data and here it is!!

Adding a quick disclaimer that I did this for fun so I haven’t double checked it meaning there may be some mistakes!

As you can see from the data it turns out that they did kill less women than men during the show!!!! The total known kills in the show are 200 with 98 of them being men, 65 women and 37 were unknown!! I also kept track of who did the murder and those categories are: Hannibal, killer of the week, Will, and other.

To preface, I am only using “women” and “men” for my categories in this data as the show does not depict any trans or nb people (explicitly at least, there are a couple metaphorical/subtextual ones…) and if I could not tell the person’s gender or I simply did not see a body I categorised them as “unknown” 

You will be pleased to know that Hannibal killed 39.5 people (the 0.5 is Dolarhyde which I split between Will and Hannibal as it was a joint kill 😌)  over the show on screen and that 26.5 of them were men, 9 were women and only 4 were unknown! All I can say is that Hannibal is a feminist queen! That or women are significantly less rude in the Hannibal universe… although Freddie seems to defy that theory…. He does kill the most in s1 at 21 times! That essentially halves in s2 to only 12 times and again to 6.5 times in s3.. although it’s worth noting that I was unable to count his kills at Muskrat Farm as we don’t see any bodies on screen (though the script implies it was at least 7) and I only counted the Il Mostro kills that we saw evidence of instead of including the amount killed by the actual Il Mostro killer(s).. Not to mention that he spent half the season in prison! So all that said he did okay! Also I personally believe that his kill count across his lifetime is easily in the high hundreds, he has to meal plan if nothing else so let's put some respect on his name as Hannibal THEE Cannibal!

Unsurprisingly the killers of the week did make up most of the kills in the show, and killed 62 men, 56 women and 33 of unknown gender altogether. The killer of the week who did the most murder is James Grey at a whopping 50 but he did have a mural to create so that takes a lot of bodies! Second place goes to Lawrence Wells who murdered 17 people over his lifetime to create his totem pole, while Clark Ingram sneaks in at 3rd with 16 murders, although he only killed women and is the main reason why the women’s s2 kill count is higher than the men’s, boooooo! Poor Dolarhyde had to pick up all the slack in s3 as the only killer of the week but he did at least get 15 kills in! Sadly he was bound by the orders of the moon and could not do the suitable legwork 😔

Now Will DID get his own section of the table as is his right as the main character 😤 even if he only killed 3 people (which translates to 2.5 on the table as a result of having to share the dragon with Hannibal…). But they were all monumental kills, I mean Garret Jacob Hobbs haunted the rest of the show, Randall was turned into a magnificent tableau, and Francis was the culmination of his becoming and gave us That Ending!! It’s also not like he didn’t successfully manipulate multiple people into killing (or almost killing) people so I think he deserves extra points for those if only in our hearts!! Despite his low kill count he is the character we see commit murder the most on the show! He fantasises/imagines/hallucinates murdering 32 people across the show!! As the show moved away from the procedural nature he imagined killing less people; with s1 standing at 16, s2 moving down to 9 and then only 7 in s3! Just because most of the time he’s empathising with killers to recreate their kills doesn’t make the scenes any less sexy or iconic!!

The 7 other kills actually all come from women!! Another feminism win!! 3.3 is when Chiyoh killed her prisoner after being manipulated into it by Will. 3.7 sees Chiyoh kill again, this time’s it’s the 2 guys who were going to kill Jack and the 2 guards at Muskrat Farm, where we also we get Mason’s murder from Alana and Margot!! Then in 3.10 we get the flashback to Bedelia killing her patient! Go Girls!! Whooo!! 

In conclusion no one is surprised that there is a lot of murder in this show and Bryan Fuller while not exactly alternating each week in killing off each gender did not kill more women than men so arguably achieved his goal!

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3)

[saiintofawe]

love how coronabeth and ianthe are both unsettling and gross and fucked up but in different ways. ianthe lurks in the shadows and likes to judge you and purposefully say something rude and out of pocket for the fuck of it, pushes boundaries and creates unpleasant situations for the fuck of it. she killed and ate the guy that she previously used as a chew toy. she basically creamed her pants when harrow ripped her arm off and rebuilt it and when harrow told her she saw the saint of duty kissing a corpse she simply went okay. and? overall she's outwardly weird and somehow obnoxious even while hiding in her sister's shadow.

coronabeth seems like the perfect most charming girl in the world. she's not. she's literally heartbroken over her sister choosing to not kill and cannibalize her, took it as a rejection. she mentions that she would always pretend to be hurt to get attention which is not that weird, but then she goes oh, remember how i always threatened suicide when we were kids ianthe? well i'm doing it again right now. this time for real. i'm down on my knees for you and i'm willing to kill myself rn if you don't do what i fucking say ianthe. at first it looks like she's the dominant one, then ianthe becomes a lyctor and we see their dynamic switch, ianthe looks like the one in control. but then we see them again in nona the ninth and, despite being the one on her knees, hugging ianthe's legs, its clear that corona had her wrapped around her finger. she legit looked at gideon's dead body and tought well, she makes a real good looking dead body. and i also envy her. she also used babs as a chew toy

in conclusion the tridentarii are a couple of weird weird freaks with an interesting dynamic and i think sigmund freud would have loved studying them

[letters-from-dekarios]

so high school

summary: you’re the high school’s star football player. never would you have imagined that your eyes would set on the dorky english club head and class president during the hottest party of the year, but some things are meant to be.

or: you flirt with gale at a party

word count: 7.5k

tags: modern high school!au, 18!gale x 18!reader, m!reader, some VERY minor suggested NSFW, another t!swift inspired fic, all the people are in this one somehow, football coach halsin, english teacher mystra (still part of the hate club), high school tropes, kind of underaged drinking (i don’t condone!)

Being the best wasn’t easy. Whether it was sports, academics, or the streets, dealing with the pressure of staying on top of everything was about the most difficult thing someone could do. Having to do all of that, while still being young and impressionable, just made it all the more arduous.

Yet, here you stood— star of the football team, the greatest quarterback your school had in years. You were already being offered full-ride scholarships to play for some of the most formidable teams. Naturally, everything was going tremendously. How you’d managed to get this far was just astounding, especially considering you weren’t exactly known for being intellectual or getting all a’s. It spoke volumes to receive the stacks of offers from different colleges despite all that. A part of you couldn’t help but feel guilty for it, taking away the opportunities from someone who’d grow up to do much greater things in life than you. But the other part of you was just glad to be recognized for the hard work you put into your body.

After all, you were tall, lean, and incredibly fit. All the girls fawned over you like they were going to lose you if they didn’t. And you were hot, so that helped, too. Even some of the guys looked at you twice, despite the fact you were about 70% sure you didn’t swing that way. At least, you didn’t for the guys you caught looking at you. The other 30% was reserved for guys who looked like Flynn Rider, Aaron Taylor-Johnson, and a few of your teammates who you’d always joked that you’d date if you were a girl.

You were well-liked, popular, and knew anybody who was anybody in your hometown. You had connections thick and thin, and, really, you were the teamiest player who could play teams. Okay, that was stupid, but you were a teenage boy— virtually everything you said that wasn’t about football was.

It was getting to that time of year when all the school dances and after-parties were happening, and you were being invited to all of them. You, of course, were also accepting every invitation that came your way, making promises you knew you’d try, and fail, to keep. But, hey, at least you tried.

And then there was Gale. He was… well, a dork to say the least. He was handsome, sure, but he didn’t stand out to anyone besides being the class president and English club head. He was geeky, nerdy, and whatever other adjective you could think of for people who spent their free time analyzing the psychological effects of cannibalism in literature. Yeah, he was liked by the other nerds who were in the same club as him, but he wasn’t exactly popular. He was elected class president mostly as a joke, and you hated to admit that you were one of those votes. He was a nice guy and didn’t do anyone any harm but, alas, high school is a feeding ground for the wildest of beasts.

The most riveting thing about him was that there were rumors of him and the English teacher doing it in her classroom. With the way she looked at him and gave him unique treatment, it almost wasn’t even gossip. Everyone in the school believed it, and everyone in the school meant you, too. It wasn’t unheard of before, teachers going after their students, but that didn’t make it ethical or legal. Still, people talked about it like it was some article in the Sunday newspaper to be marveled at. Mostly, he kept to himself aside from the occasional class meeting that required him to talk to everyone, and was generally quiet.

This particular day happened to be one of his required meetings. You, and your grades’ peers, were gathered in the gymnasium for “information” on the school prom. Despite graduation coming so close, prom felt a million miles away.

You and your friends sat and joked with one another about mindless things, idiotic things, as you waited for whatever announcement was to come.

“Dude, when do you think it started?” Your friend, Wyll, asked you.

“What started?” You questioned, watching as he pointed to Mystra’s longing gaze directed behind the curtain. “Oh my god, we have this conversation like sixteen times a week. Can we please talk about something else?” You groaned, gaining a disapproving shove from Wyll.

“Oh, yes, I’d much rather talk about what we’re each going to have for dinner,” Astarion sarcastically remarked from behind you, kicking you softly. “Don’t be so dull! We have to get through this pointless meeting one way or another,” he pouted, and you nearly wanted to punch his perfect little face in.

“Don’t be so snide, Astarion. I’d much rather talk about that than the sex lives of our teachers,” Jenevelle retorted, rolling her eyes at all three of you.

“Tchk, boys. That is all they care about. Sticking their little wands into whatever hole will open for them,” Lae’zel added on, and all four of you audibly cringed at that. “What? Do I not speak the truth?”

You sighed, waving a hand to dismiss everyone’s comments. “Look, I want to figure out what our stupid prom theme is going to be and get out of here. Let’s talk sex when it won’t get us kicked out,” you told them, and a warning look from your coach, Halsin, signified your conversation was not as private as you thought.

“That’s enough, Mister Y/L/N,” Halsin called up to you, and you bowed your head in acknowledgement. Wyll nudged you playfully, and you snapped at him under your breath to cut it out.

“It is my pleasure and honor to introduce your beloved class president- Gale Dekarios!” Mystra, unmistakably, introduced Gale to the class who gave half-assed applause.

“Hello-“ Gale cleared his throat, glancing down at the notes he had written down. You always found it funny how anxious he’d get on stage. You’d see him start messing with the hem of his shirt, on the side, rubbing it repetitively between his fingertips, and then he’d start talking. This interaction was not foreign.

“On behalf of the students and faculty, it’s my pleasure to be able to announce this year’s prom theme with you all,” Gale began, and you heard some douchebag start booing him. He was quickly shut up by a teacher quickly shushing him, and Gale began again. “The faculty present at this event requested I start with the regulations first. So let’s get into that,” he smiled at everyone, turned a page, and went on.

“Oh brother, this guy stinks!” You heard one of your teammates reference behind you, a small chorus of laughter emitting from his section, you included. Gale went on about how there was no drinking, no aggressive or verbally offensive music, and definitely no sex. Some other rules were mentioned about dress and grooming but nobody ever paid any attention to those.

“This year’s prom theme is…” he allowed tension to build for a brief second, and then smiled as he looked up at everyone, “Midnight Masquerade!”

Your class erupted with both relief and joy. The previous year had ‘Under the Sea’ as their theme and it was a dumpster fire disaster. You all feared what the teachers and principal would decide but, thankfully, it seemed they pulled through this year.

“Looks like you might finally get laid, Lae’zel,” Jenevelle teased, only to be met with a hardened glare. “It’s only a joke, cut that out.”

Once the meeting was dismissed, everyone began discussing what their outfits would be. You had a few weeks to prepare, and you were already forming ideas in your head.

Those few weeks soon turned into days, and then hours as you and all your friends piled into a limo Wyll’s dad had rented for you all.

“Move over, asshole!” You finally got comfortable in the limo with some shifting about, everyone’s dates beside them. For the most part, at least.

“Dude, I thought you were going with Alfira? What happened to that?” Wyll asked you, and you shrugged.

“Dude,” you mocked, “We talked about this. She’s into girls, she’s going out with that one from the D&D club,” you reminded him, and he nodded in distinction.

“Damn, Y/N, going to the prom with no date? And I thought you were mister popular,” Astarion poked fun at you, while you rolled your eyes.

“I’m sure I’ll be going to the afterparty with someone, don’t doubt me on that,” you chuckled, and Wyll whacked your arm playfully.

“That’s the spirit! Or, hey, maybe you’ll meet someone at the afterparty instead. I heard there’s supposed to be booze,” Wyll grinned at you, and you kicked him back.

“Yeah, 'cause it’s happening at your bigass mansion,” you joked, then you and your party were off.

You each slipped on your intricate masks as you drove into the parking lot. Yours matched your suit, a navy blue color that had intricate black designs hand-sewn into it. The patterns made out flowers and daggers, twisting together into an amalgamation. The mask itself was also a navy blue color, with black lace lined over top. Your tie was the reverse, black lace on blue fabric, and you wore a black shirt that complemented the entire outfit. You were the star of the show, as expected.

You ate, danced, took stupid photo booth pictures with your friends all crammed into the tiny box— you had a good time. Eventually, the voting opened for the prom royalties and you knew immediately who would win.

The night went on, and people partnered for the slower songs that played over the speakers. Somehow, you were pushed up against a guy and encouraged to dance together. You shrugged, pulled him against your waist, and followed the motions of those around you.

“You look nice,” he complimented, his hands resting up at your shoulders.

“So do you,” you returned his adoration and observed his suit. It was a deep purple color that matched his skin tone. Much like your own, it was stitched with a lighter purple and gold that made intricate starry designs. The mask hiding his face was also like yours, matching the color of his suit and overlaid with golden lace.

You leaned down towards him, pulling his waist flush against you as you whispered low into his ear. “You look like royalty,” you hummed, feeling his hands tighten at your shoulders.

“Thank you…” he smiled softly as your lips brushed against his cheek. The warmth radiated off of his face and pulled into your own, his blushing far from hidden even under the mask. “I don’t think you’d say that without the disguise, though..” he laughed awkwardly and you stood straight up again.

“Oh? Why do you say that?” You asked, continuing to move around the dance floor with him, moving between other couples.

“Just a… general observation,” he shrugged, messing with your hair gently.

You lowered down near him again, brushing your noses together while looking into his eyes. “I’m going to take that as a challenge,” you grinned, glancing down at his lips and then back up at his eyes. “I’ll find out who you are and you’ll be mine by the end of the school year,” you smirked, and he gave a half-smile back.

“You can certainly try,” he teased and then began to pull away from you as the song came to a close. He stepped back towards his group, eyes still trained on you.

“Oh, I will,” you nodded in recognition before going back to your friends, who were laughing hysterically at you.

There was something magical about the energy he had, one that couldn't be replicated so easily. Despite the minor interaction, you were drawn directly to him. You knew that he’d stick in your mind like a bad stain you couldn’t wash out, clinging to the foreground of your mind. You wouldn’t escape him even if you tried, and you didn’t exactly want to.

“What?” You asked, taking a drink handed to you from Jen as you returned.

“What do you mean ‘what’? You were practically making out with that guy!” Wyll laughed, patting your shoulder reassuringly.

“You pushed me to him!” You defended, hands in the air as if you were on trial.

“That doesn’t mean you have to cause a scene,” Jen teased, nudging you in the side.

“You guys are just jealous I have more game than you,” you chuckled, everyone hitting you playfully.

“Mate, if you have more game than me then that means I’m dead,” Karlach cackled, the girl at her side giggling at her comments.

“Screw all of you. Seriously.” You shook your head at them, striking up a different conversation while the music slowly quieted. The lights moved from the dance floor to the stage as one of the teachers walked on stage.

“Homecoming and prom, let’s do this,” you smiled down at Jenevelle as the votes were beginning to be counted. Hands interlocked, you’d been praying for this for weeks. It didn’t mean anything academically, but it was the event that counted. The two of you had won the year prior at your junior homecoming and were slated to win prom, too. You had been childhood best friends, none the wiser, and always voted each other for things like this. You shared every joyous moment like blood siblings, and you believed this would be another to add to your memories.

“Alright students, gather around!” All the masked teens huddled near the stage, everyone whispering about who would be voted up this year.

“This year’s prom royalties are…” Since it was a masquerade, they got around saying names by simply pointing you out in a crowd. Both winners were shown with a bright spotlight highlighting them.

You, unsurprisingly, were one of them. You turned to Jen, expecting her to be lit up like you were, but found her shrouded in darkness instead. You looked up at the teacher, beaming at the crowd and motioning for you to step on stage. You were confident you and Jen were going on stage together! But as your eyes found the other light, twinkling in the back of the crowd, you saw it shining on another boy.

Another guy? Who voted for him? And how did he get enough votes to kick Jen out of her spot you were so sure was secured?

Your heart broke for a moment realizing that you’d lost out on this with her. What was supposed to be your final bow turned into breaking ankles. It didn’t feel right.

Jen pat your arm reassuringly and motioned you up to the stage. You smiled despite the hurt, walked through the crowd, and stepped up in front of everyone. The other winner followed a moment after, his friends encouraging him to make his way up. You recognised the suit belonging to the mystery dancer from before, a piece of you glad for it to be him and not a stranger. Even though he was, still, a stranger.

“Let’s give a hand to our royals!” The teacher stepped away from the mic to clap, allowing the other faculty member to place the plastic crowns on each of your heads. You glanced over at the other, who was clearly uncomfortable, and sighed internally. You’d make this easy for him, at least.

“Just follow my lead,” You told him, taking his hand and holding each of yours up with your award-winning smile. You waved with your free hand and pulled him down the stairs and to the dance floor. He barely contested with you, allowing you to guide him. You pondered over the challenge you’d proposed, wondering how you’d find out who he was. You only had so long to do it, of course, so you had to be on your toes to memorize any detail you could about him.

“Now, our traditional slow dance!” The same teacher called into the microphone before the music faded back in over the speakers.

“Just like before, yeah?” Raising a suggestive eyebrow at him, you wrapped your arm tightly around his waist, hand planted firmly against his lower back. His hands went back up to your shoulders like they had before, steadying himself against you.

“I didn’t mean to steal this from her,” the boy apologized, and you made a face to brush off the comment.

“You didn’t exactly look thrilled to do this, so I can’t assume you voted for yourself,” you shrugged, tugging him close by the waist. You took one of his hands, spun him away from you, and then back in. “Besides, I can get more clues from you this way. And put on a little show,” your eyes flicked towards the people recording, and the boy in your arms nodded in understanding.

“Thanks, for this,” he replied, smiling faintly at you. You could only nod your head to accept his gratitude, though you would have done the same no matter who was there with you.

When it finally ended, you two parted ways without much discussion and returned to your friend groups yet again. Though, the air was different this time.

“That was the same guy. Who is he?” Jen asked, and you shrugged. You had no idea, but you wanted to find out.

“I have no idea, but he’s cool,” you took the crown off your head and popped it on hers, smiling down at Jen. “There, now you can experience it,” you joked.

She took the crown off, and handed it back to you, flattening out her hair. “Thanks, but no thanks. I don’t want to get head lice from you,” she shook her head, freeing herself of the thought.

“You’re so dramatic,” you laughed, ruffling her hair slightly, causing her to whack your arm.

“Hey! That was crazy!” Karlach came running over, another girl in her arms, tossing her other across your shoulders. Sometimes you wondered why she wasn’t the quarterback, but she much preferred other sports.

“You going to the afterparty?” You asked over the music as it got louder again, consuming your thoughts.

“Hells yeah I am! You?” She asked, shaking you slightly in excitement.

“Wouldn’t be me if I didn’t go!” You laughed with her, though you could never understand her excitement half the time. She was good company, and you knew the afterparty would be ten times more enjoyable with her there, so who were you to complain?

Your group noticed people starting to leave and took that as your queue to head out. You slipped back into the limo, the party continuing on with the drive back to Wyll’s.

With everyone linked up with their significant others, or their dates for only the one night, you couldn’t help feeling lonely. Each of your friends had a partner, and you were just.. there. Fame meant nothing if there was nobody to share it with. And, no, you weren’t going to not share it with your friends— but sharing it with a lover was so much different. It would’ve been nice to have someone to joke with about dancing with another person that wasn’t them. Yeah, you claimed you didn’t really “swing that way” but, maybe, you kind of did? After all, you’d just essentially flirted with a guy for half the night. Maybe you wouldn’t mind it if it meant you had a partner who fit against you like the missing piece of your puzzle.

“You look spaced out, Y/N, you good?” Wyll asked suddenly, and you snapped out of the daze you’d been in.

“Huh? Oh- yeah! I’m just thinking about how tired we’re going to be tomorrow,” you laughed, and Jen patted your knee in agreement. With all the thoughts bouncing around your head, you were sure you’d leave almost immediately after arriving. But at least you tried!

In the back of the limo, as you all pulled up to the event, each of you began shimmying out of your tight-fitting clothes. Thankfully, you had on an undershirt and pants stored in the car so your change was rather easy. You stuck your suit under the seat to grab later while you changed out of your shoes.

“Hey, Wyll, thank your dad for getting this bigass limo for us!” Karlach shouted as she helped Jen out of her dress, everyone tangled within one another as they changed.

“Yeah, and for hosting the afterparty,” you added, everyone cheering because you knew you’d have a good time.

Once you pulled up, you were back to being stupid, wild teenagers again. Some people stayed in their outfits, but not many, and most had gotten comfortable long before they got there.

Once again, music cut through your thoughts as you entered. You flipped a switch instantaneously, smiling and waving at people who knew you as you passed through. You caught up in idle conversations here and there, laughing with your teammates and drinking back the lingering feeling you had earlier. But the longer the party went on, the lonelier you got.

You were so adored by everyone that nobody considered loving you. How does that even happen?

Maybe you were just notorious for turning girls down- claiming you didn’t want anything serious. It’s not like you slept around, either. You tried to be a gentleman, but the girls who always wanted you only wanted to change you. They wanted you for their little football player fantasies, and when they couldn’t have you they moved on to someone else. It was weird. You shined and sparkled like the night sky, but who was your moon to ignite the atoms that made you who you were?

Eventually, in your tipsy state, you ended up alone in a library, seeking solace from the throbbing of the world around you. Red solo cup in hand, slumped down on the white leather couch, you scrolled aimlessly through your phone. You didn’t hear the door creak open until it was shut, and someone sat on the couch next to you.

“Oh- sorry. I hope you don’t mind,” you turned your head to look at who had joined you, only to find Gale seated there.

“It’s fine,” you shrugged, taking another sip and going back to your phone. “Trying to find quiet from the party?” You asked, not bothering to look up.

“Ah… yes. I wasn’t exactly expecting to receive an invitation and I’m quite dreading the fact I said yes and showed up,” he chuckled, and you saw him messing with his shirt like usual out of the corner of your eye.

“You do that a lot,” you remarked suddenly, and he looked confused.

“Apologies? I do what a lot?” He asked, head tilted at you.

“The shirt thing. When you get nervous you rub the corner hem of your shirt between your fingers.”

“You noticed that?”

You blinked at your phone, realizing what you’d said aloud. You didn’t mean it in a bad way, it was just an observation of his habits. After all, you had to stare at him while he talked about class politics and whatnot for hours during the semesters- you saw him do it all the time.

“I don’t.. sorry, I…” you cleared your throat, taking a sip of the drink in your cup with a small shrug. “Don’t mean it in a bad way, I guess. I just noticed it,”

“Oh. Okay.”

Gale pulled out his phone, knee bouncing as he got comfortable and assumed a position similar to yours.

“Congratulations, by the way,” he added after a second, and you weren’t sure what he meant.

“On what?”

“Being prom king. It was expected, but congratulations anyway,” he smiled over at you, and you returned it half-heartedly.

“Thanks. I have no clue who was up there with me, though,” you laughed slightly, though the confusion was genuine. Something felt so right about dancing there with that boy that you weren’t sure what it was. Fate, or simply that nagging longing in the back of your mind looking for someone to fill the void?

Gale was about to respond, but several of your teammates came barging in, all yelling and talking over one another.

“Dude! Lae’zel just got dared to jump in the pool from the roof and she’s gonna do it!” You finally made out, and your face changed as you ran out with them to watch her.

Chaos resumed and your thoughts were no longer your own again, instead they belonged to the teenage relevancy of idiotic decisions and crazed actions. When you all returned inside, dry, save for Lae’zel, you kept up with the party once more.

But your eyes kept flickering back to the library, and then around the room. Gale had such an interesting aura about him, you couldn’t put a finger on it. Then, your mind wandered and you wondered if you could tell who your mystery dancer was, like Cinderella’s prince.

You tried to recall the details of the masked man, the way his eyes creased with your jokes, laughing like you were the best comedian there could be. The way his lips turned with his emotions, covering but not concealing what he was truly thinking.

“Dude, did you see Gale showed up? We all thought he’d be all up in Mystra by now!” One of your friends cackled, and you laughed slightly, but not really wholeheartedly this time.

“You know that’s not really that funny,” you stated, and the looks you got were borderline dangerous. It was like jumping into a pit of snakes and stepping on their tails- you had stepped into hazardous territory with your challenge.

“What?”

“I said it’s not funny.”

“Are you serious right now? Since when did you care about Gale? We joke about him all the time!” That struck a nerve. The guy had been nothing but nice to everyone and this is how he got treated? You almost felt sick. But why now? Why did it suddenly matter?

“Just- drop it, okay? Let’s have fun without screwing people over,” you waved their discussion off and moved to play beer pong with some people. The party began to dwindle, and you caught Gale in a group of some people looking like he was enjoying himself. At least he had that going for him.

Eventually, there were only a few people left in the room, and someone had the bright idea to play spin the bottle mixed with truth or dare.

“Alright, we need some ground rules here,” Jen said as she folded her legs neatly while she sat on the floor.

“Either truth or dare, or you kiss the person who spun you,” someone else said, and everyone seemed to agree on that.

Shots were handed out and, with newfound confidence, you and the small group were enjoying yourselves. Stupid pranks were being pulled, dumb secrets were being untold, and things were getting heated. Kind of, at least. Some people had gone home, which left you, Wyll, Lae’zel, Jenevelle, Karlach, Astarion, and Gale. Astarion was just kissing everyone whenever he didn’t like the dare, Karlach was full-throttle choosing dare every time, Jen only picked truth until someone forced her to pick dare, and between Wyll and Lae’zel you couldn’t tell who was more balanced in choices. Though, Lae’zel had less clothes on than anyone so perhaps her scales were tilted. Gale, he was the odd one. He’d stay away from choosing to kiss someone and hadn’t kissed anyone at all. You realized you hadn’t either, and the two of you kept going back between truths and dares so nobody forced you to do so.

“Gods, this is getting boring! Someone needs to make out.” Astarion yawned, draped over Karlach with his shirt tossed off to the side.

Wyll spun the empty bottle in the center of your group and it landed on you once it finally slowed to a stop. Within seconds, he got a bright idea in his head. There was no way you’d end up kissing him, not in a million years, and Astarion wanted action. What better way to do so than messing with you?

“Truth or dare, mate,” he grinned at you, and you sighed. You hadn’t picked dare in a while, so it was time.

“Dare. Give it to me good, jackass,” you smiled right back at him and watched in abject horror as his grin turned into a smirk.

“I dare you to do seven minutes in heaven with…”

He paused, looked at the crew of people left, and then met Gale’s shy gaze. “Gale.”

“What?” You both asked in unison, almost making the same face at him.

“Go on. Or you can kiss me, but, I don’t think you want to do that,” he smirked, and you cursed everything in him that made him that way.

“You’re an asshole.”

“There’s a bedroom right around the corner, might as well take that one,” he ushered you two up, and you both begrudgingly stood. “Your timer starts... Now!” He closed the door after walking you inside and locked it almost immediately.

“Look, we don’t have to-“

“It’s alright,” Gale interrupted you, waving a hand to dismiss your concern as he sat on the edge of the bed. “I’ll mess up my hair and shirt in a few moments and they’ll be none the wiser if you do the same.” He smiled, and you recognized the pain behind the eyes. Too bright to be looked at without burning, he sought nearly the same thing as you. “I’m only here as a joke anyway, right?” He chuckled sadly, shrugging. “You don’t have to make me feel like more of one.”

“That’s not—��

“I overheard you talking about me. Quite plenty of people forget that I, too, have ears. You all believe I’m imperiously deafened to the rumors you spread in the halls. I hear them all, you know. I know where they begin and I know the last person who’s been touched by them. There’s no stopping the wildfire that’s been set ablaze in my wake, the vicious jokes made in my name, the roughened edges I’ve created to save myself from it all. But please, I ask that you not twist the dagger any more than it’s already been plunged inside me.”

You blinked at him, not… exactly sure of what to say to that. As you decoded the poetic words in your mind, you understood his point clearer.

“I’m sorry, about all of that,” you began, sitting down beside him and messing with your hands. “I don’t really know why they—“

“You say it too.”

You cleared your throat and began again, “Why we… say all that stuff. It’s just bullshit to keep us entertained, I guess,” you shrugged, head low as you thought of all the people you indirectly hurt climbing your way to the top. How many others like him did you turn to gold with your Midas touch? Forever banning them to a life of solitude in your shadow, forcing them under your submission, and rarely quashing the arbitrary lies that were told under you? How many people had you turned into stone statues with your headdress of snakes? Those who claimed to identify as friends but ruined your peace in the process? Would you ever find out? Would you ever have the time to apologize for letting your kingdom go so cold as the heat of your infamy died down?

“It hurts, so you’re aware. Mystra.. she’s not what you all believe her to be. She’s quite the teacher, and she sees the potential that I have in her class,” Gale sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I just want to do right by people, whether or not I’m put in positions of power as a sick prank. I could have declined, but who else would take my place? Who would have stepped up and made the changes for all of you like I had? I fight for the good and get treated like the dirt beneath everyone’s feet.” He coughed and then shook his head. “I know it’s not just you. But I heard you tonight, so right now it’s about you and everyone else, too. I don’t mean to discard these feelings on you but…” he trailed off.

“I tried defending you. I don’t think you’re a bad person and you definitely haven’t gotten as much recognition as you should have,” you started, trying to find the words. “I didn’t… get to know you, and just made opinions based on stupid rumors. I’m sorry. About that.” You cleared your throat once more, and a quiet hush fell between the space that separated you. He didn’t owe you a thanks for your apologies over your hurtful actions, and he wasn’t about to offer one, either.

“You’re really… uh… what’s the word?”

“Eloquent?”

“Yeah, eloquent. I see it.. now,” you smiled over at him and then looked to the floor once more.

“Thanks,” he returned your grin, and then quiet fell into the bedroom once more.

“Three-minute warning!” You heard Wyll call from outside the door, and the two of you groaned in unison.

“You have a girlfriend?” You asked him, and he shook his head no. “Are you… not into girls?”

“What-“ his face flushed and he looked at you with wide eyes.

“Like, are you gay? I mean, it’s cool, there’s a shit ton of gay people at our school. I was just asking,” you shrugged.

“I… I’m not exactly..”

“Out of the closet?”

“Can you let the words come from my mouth before you finish my sentences?” He huffed, and you made the motion of locking your lips. “I do like women. But I also like men. And I like whatever is the in-between of it all,” he started again and then sighed. “To me, it’s more about connection and personality. I can have a romantic relationship with just about anyone, but it’s not because of their gender. It’s because of who they are as a person, do you understand?”

“Yeah, I get that,” you nodded, looking over at his shoes. A striking familiarity crossed in your mind, as you connected the shoes he was wearing to the man you’d danced with earlier in the night. You gazed up at his face, studying it intently.

“Do I have something on me?” He asked, wiping at his face.

“You’re him…” you replied, leaning closer toward him.

“What- who..?”

You gently grabbed his chin, turning his face towards your own as you studied the details of him. You couldn’t be mistaken, you’d recognize those eyes anywhere. You laughed slightly, brushing your thumb over his bottom lip.

“What…” You could see it in his eyes, he knew exactly what you meant. But could he dare indulge in it? In the idea of you?

“The one I danced with tonight, the other royal…” you hummed, smirking softly as you leaned back again. “You knew it was me, didn’t you?”

He stuttered in an attempt to find a lie, an excuse, but gave up after a moment of embarrassment. “Who couldn’t?” He replied, lowering his head in shame.

“You know—“

“Just kiss me.”

You blinked, glancing over at him. He made eye contact with you, strong and unwavering, and you raised a brow.

“Don’t lead me on to something I know is never going to happen. Don’t set your sights on me and leave me high and dry. It’s not fair for you to make me feel a certain way and then hang me on your line of people you’ve caught in the traps you unknowingly laid. Please, just get it over with bec-“

You grabbed his face, pressing your lips together hastily. Why? Did you just want to get this over with so you could each move on?

You didn’t know him as well as your friends, but this aching feeling came bursting through your chest. It desired to be let go, set free into the world. You needed him, your other half, to balance you out. Something in you knew this wasn’t just a one-off moment to save him the heartbreak, you knew you were now tied to one another whether you’d like it or not. But you could pretend to be “getting it over with” for the sake of this interaction.

His hand steadied himself on your shoulder, and you wrapped an arm around his waist. Swiftly, you pulled him into you and onto your lap, your other hand on the back of his head to keep him there. He made a small noise you could akin to satisfaction, and you laughed against his lips. Your head tilted to the side, leaning up into him as the kiss continued. Your hands moved down to his sides, grabbing his waist tightly.

He broke it off after a second, his breathing heavy as he looked down at you. His eyes screamed love and lust all in one, wrapped in a delicate bow, those soft eyes of his and the lingering smile tying it all together.

“You…”

“Hm?” You tilted your head at him, bringing his chin down to grab his attention. He focused entirely on you, eyes connected and unbreaking.

“You’re really good at that…” he laughed nervously, adjusting the way he sat in your lap. You felt him up against you, and a sly smirk found its way onto your face.

“Yeah? You think so?” You asked, pulling his hips forward, hands slipping around to his ass.

“I mean, I have a practiced tongue with what I read, but..”

“A practiced tongue?” You laughed at him, squeezing where you could as you threw your head back.

“Hey! Don’t laugh at me!” He whacked your chest, which only made you laugh more.

“What, you get practice rolling your r’s over those fancy words of yours?” You cackled, leaning up towards him once again.

“You’re so childish,” he tsk-ed, lowering his head down to you, your noses touching again.

“But you seem to be into it,” you claimed, raising the argument with him.

“This feels just… so high school,” he stated, and you tilted your head as to what that meant. He noted your confusion and continued, “Truth or dare, spin the bottle… you know how to ball, I know Aristotle…” he raised both eyebrows, hoping you understood the trope he was getting at.

You laughed again at his comment, shaking your head at him. “You’re so funny,”

“It’s true! Swear, scouts honor,” he leaned into you, brushing his lips against yours. Then, out of pure adrenaline, he said something he never would’ve imagined ever stating to anyone else. “I want you to touch me while your bros play Grand Theft Auto…”

You smirked at that, connecting your lips briefly. “You’re gonna have to stifle your sighs for that one,” you teased, kissing him again. He returned your kiss, allowing you to trace your lips down his neck.

“Times u-“ Wyll burst in, and then stared directly at both of you. You were rather unfazed by it, but Gale turned to stone in your arms. You continued kissing his neck, ignoring Wyll just… standing there. Hello? Say something!

“Fuck off, Wyll.”

“Yeah! Yep! I’m- ahuh!” Wyll turned back around and closed the door again, shell-shocked from what he perceived as a horror before him. Not that gay people scared him, but you were kissing Gale? He didn’t actually expect you two to be like that.

“Y/N-“ Gale pleaded, gently pushing at your shoulders.

“Hmm?” You switched sides, slipping your hands under his shirt and holding tight onto his waist.

“Please-“ He pushed again on your shoulders, and you got the hint. You pulled back and looked up at him, in awe of his beauty.

“This was really, really nice. But I don’t.. want to do this if it’s just to prove a point,” he slipped out of your hold and stood up, fixing his hair and his shirt.

“That’s not-“

“Again, spare me. Spare me from the horrors that will unfold from your pursuit of this. Whatever reason you might have, I don’t desire to be the object of any more jokes,” he cleared his throat, clearly holding back the pain he felt.

“Gale-“

“Please,” He begged, his voice quiet. He didn’t want to become a laughingstock if things went south.

“Okay, okay,” you put your hands up defensively. You stood, running a hand through your hair. He was about to leave, but you grabbed his hand before he could. “I don’t want to hurt you,” you paused, letting go of his hand as you looked down at him.

“But I do… want to get to know you. We can be friends, yeah?” You pulled out your phone from your pocket, holding it towards him to input his number. “Doesn’t have to be anything else. And I can probably get people to stop making rumors,” you offered, and Gale sighed at you.

“Are you going to marry, kiss, or kill me?” He asked quizzically as he inputted his number. What was that supposed to mean?

“It’s just a game-“

“But really,” he looked up at you, sighing once again. “I’m betting on all three for us two.” He handed your phone back, his hand slipping down to rub the edge of his shirt. He laughed a little bit at the idea of marriage. Gods, no. “No one’s ever had me, not like you. I don’t want things to go south if we head into things too strongly,” he pushed his hands into his pockets, all too aware of his anxious stimming. “I’d appreciate it if you’d get rid of the rumors. We can be friends, but that’s all I’d like for right now.”

“Can we make out every once in a while because I’m kinda getting the practiced tongue thing now-“ you joked, only to be met with Gale shoving you slightly.

“What did I just say, Prometheus?”

“Alright, alright. I get it.” You saved his number in your phone and then opened the door for him to leave. Skipping past everyone, you led Gale out to his car. “Uh.. who’s Prometheus? Asking for a friend, definitely not for me,”

“You don’t know who Prometheus is?” Gale stopped walking entirely to look at you with horror and hurt, a look worse than when he talked about the rumors. Jesus, this guy cared about literature more than anything.

“Is it an English club thing? I only ‘know how to ball’,” you recounted his former comment, laughing as he made a face of annoyance now, walking to his car without another word.

“Oh, come on! That was a funny sentence!” You followed him as he got into the driver’s seat, and you leaned against the window while he started the car. You knocked on the window, pouting at him softly.

He rolled the window down and you took the opportunity to reach in, open the door from the inside, and lean on the top of the car while keeping him from closing it again. “Don’t be mad at me, Dekarios,” you grinned at him, but that didn’t change the annoyance in his eyes.

“Is this how you treat all your friends?” He cocked an eyebrow at you, arms crossed tight over his chest now.

“Just the ones I really like…” you lowered yourself down towards his face, biting your bottom lip slightly. He pushed your face to the side, ignoring the temptation.

“I’d prefer if you liked me a little less, just for now,” he retorted, and you laughed at his joke wholeheartedly.

“I’ll try,” you nodded, hitting the top of the car as you stepped back and closed the door for him. “Get home safe, yeah? I’m going to send you my number.”

“I’ll try,” he copied, and you couldn’t help but want to kiss his pretty little face again and again and again and- okay, we get the idea.

As you watched him drive off, your heart felt a little less lonely. You weren’t technically dating, and it would take a goddamn long time before you’d get there, but you had a friend with hope for you. A not-so-more-than-friends, friend.

You entered back into the mansion with a stupid grin on your face that was instantly wiped away as you saw everyone staring at you.

“So, you made out with Gale, huh?”

“I actually fucking hate you guys,” you laughed as you rejoined the group, recounting the entire event that was getting to make out with Gale Dekarios.

Maybe it was the brink of a wrinkle in time, bittersweet endings, and brand new beginnings. You couldn’t tell what possessed you to be like that with him, and Gale wondered the same on his way home.

In a few years, where would you find yourselves? You hoped you’d be waking up to your poet wrapped in your arms, comfortable in the space you’d created together. But you were still in high school, and lots of things could change between now and then.

For now? You’d just be happy with what you had.

[periwinklekryptonite]

hey hi how does travis parallel common feminine tropes? i need to hear from the travis expert

Okay, so the "Problem" is that there's a preface and conclusion that's, like, way longer than just my bit about Travis's funny little parodies and then genuine relationship with femininity. While answering this ask, I realized just how big it is and I don't want to unload all of it here because I am just. Too tired all of the time to have all of it done in one swipe, and my attempt to do so ended up frustrating me more than anything LMAO

I write this with the promise that I'll expand on it and actually get to the meat of your question. I have a lot of it written, already!

The preface is easy: what's up with Travis and his relationship with gender?

Travis is trying to present as a very masculine, powerful character. It's an easy defense mechanism when he's alone in a crowded room. The thing many people fail to consider is that he doesn't know any of these people, and he probably dislikes most (if not all) of them on principal. The girls have a bond that existed in the before times, and Travis doesn't. He's an outsider. He's trying to grasp for some semblance of control by playing a sort of parody of the stoic, macho man... and it doesn't work.

Because of how he does this, a lot of people into the show are not into Travis. He's one of the only characters that are overtly and loudly misogynistic. It makes sense that people don't want to look past that when he acts so nasty. This means many write him off as exactly what Travis wants people to think he is.

Kevin Alves says it best in his Boys by Girls interview. I suggest reading the whole thing, it says a lot of what I'm saying and more.

So, even though he's pushing this masculine agenda when he's in the wreck with all the girls, my assumption in him has always been that he's never been the most big or the most masculine of guys at school. This is him really trying to pretend to be someone that he is not, this is not him.

This dramatized, fictional version of him is how he thinks he'll find a place within the group. The alternative is getting Coach Ben-ed and slowly being ousted from the group. Sitting in the back room and rotting in complete solitude just seems like a downer.

(Here he is looking sad for emphasis)

Travis was never the top dog. The girls do not take him seriously when he acts like this, and he probably wasn't taken very seriously in school. His insecurities lead to a lot of failures in his relationship with Javi and Nat, and no relationship with anyone else. If it continued any further than it did, he would've died for this. Like with Jackie, he'd be frozen out.

What Travis learns, and we learn as well, is that to be part of the in-group, you must also be a part of the dominant culture in the cabin and Wilderness itself. For Travis to be a part of the Yellowjackets, Travis must also be one of the girls.

Travis's story, the link between season 1 and season 2, is one of transition.

Some interpret this as a social transition, but I believe it to be literal.

The surviving group is not "the Yellowjackets and also Travis." By the end of season 2, (actually by the end of Qui,) Travis is indistinguishable from the rest. He's eaten Jackie with them, he's given blood to Shauna, he's taken blood from Lottie, he has led the group in their second act of cannibalism. Travis is a Yellowjacket.

Credit where credit is due:

@monstrousgourmandizingcats really helped me grind out these ideas and has a lot of cool YJ takes in general, and most of the screenies were given to me by @nicothecowboy.

Now, for YJ Fic Writer's Weekend I should hopefully have the part of this that you asked about ready. Until then, I have some interviews, and I cannot recommend the PaleyFest panel more. It has a lot about Travis in S2 and his relationship with Nat and Lottie.

[hayleythecannibal]

Twisted Minds: Act II- Chapter Nineteen Futamono

TW: Crime scenes, Gore, Implied Death, Death, Talks of Attempted Murder/Assassination, Cannibalism, SMUT!!!, PnV, Oral(Fem recieve), Cheating

Warning this is Fem!reader. You can also find this on Wattpad and A03 under the name @HayleyMarieOfficial. Comment if you want to be added to the taglist.

Taglist: @punkin-time @miaowkitty @gabriella-aesthetic @urlocalfanficwriter @dilfdemolisher

Twisted Minds Masterlist

“You're moving smoothly and slowly, Jack, carrying your concentration like a brimming cup.” Will says as Jack approaches his cell. "Hannibal Lecter, And Y/N were almost murdered by an employee of this hospital. An attendant we believe killed the bailiff and judge in your trial." Jack says with a cold tone. "He killed the bailiff. He didn't kill the judge. That was the Chesapeake Ripper." Will says standing when jack comes into view. "You know this?"

"He told me."

"And then you told him to kill Hannibal Lecter and Y/N. "

“Wait did you just say Y/N? Nothing I said made that happen, Jack. It just happened. Is Y/N okay? Please tell me she's okay Jack.” Will says panicked about his Girlfriend. Does she think he had her killed? Are her Injuries life changing?

“Y/N is okay. Few deep cuts and lacerations. Some blunt force trauma. But overall she’s out of the hospital and stable. But you dont seem as broken up about Hannibal as you do for Y/N.” Jack says as he watches the curly haired man panic. 

“There is a common emotion we all recognize and have not yet named. The happy anticipation of being able to feel contempt. I love Y/N. I would never. Wish her harm.” Will says seriously. “You have contempt for Hannibal.” Jack says, its no a question its a statement. “I have contempt for the Ripper. I have contempt for what he does.” Will says as he starts to pace. 

“What does he do, Will?” Jack asks, curious to what the man will say. “What does he do? What is the first and principal thing he does? What need does he serve by killing?” Will says with a chuckle, not a funny chuckle, but one of irony.

“He harvests organs.” Jack says confused. 

“No. That's only the action of what he does. Why does he need to do? The Ripper kills in sounders of three or four, in quick order.  Do you know why? I know why. Y/N certainly knows as well.” Will is confident in his thinking because it's the only option. 

“Tell me.” “Because if he waits too long, then the meat spoils.” Will says as he steps closer to the bars. “He's eating them? Hannibal Lecter is Garret Jacob Hobbs? A cannibal?” Jack says, its almost humorous. Comparing Hannibal to Garret Jacob Hobbs. Its comical. Its like comparing a Lion to a leopard. One hunts for fun while the other Hunts to eat. And the eating is just the dessert for Hannibal. The main course was the hunt.

“Not like Garret Jacob Hobbs. Hobbs ate his victims to honor them. The Ripper eats his victims because they're no better to him than pigs.” Will says, oh how he wished to be at home with His dogs and Y/N. Hannibal would most likely try to turn her against him. But Will knows that would never happen. Y/N is a lot smarter than she looks, she always has a plan. Always thinking. “With the exception of Beverly Katz, there's no connection between Hannibal and any Ripper victims.” Jack says, “No immediate connection. He likely identifies his meals years in advance, earmarks them, then waits with the patience of a python.” Jack looks at Will in frustration.

“Hannibal Lecter is not the Chesapeake Ripper.”

“Who else do you know with unusual culinary tastes? If the Ripper's killing, you can bet Hannibal Lecter's planning a dinner party. You and I probably sipped wine while swallowing the people we were trying to give justice, Jack. Who does he have to kill before you'll open your eyes?” Will says, but we all know who. 

HANNIBAL LECTER'S HOUSE - KITCHEN - NIGHT-

Y/N watches Hannibal cut the heart into morsels for the skewers. We can see the bandages on his arms as he cuts. He scrapes pieces of meat into a bowl of marinade, one by one.

“Funny how we revere and romanticize a simple pump. Merely a muscle. Yet such a potent symbol of life and the things that make us human, good and bad. Love and ache.” Hannibal says as I take the pieces of heart meat from the marinade and skewers them with pieces of vegetables between each morsel. The bandages around our arms bind us together in our experience. “All of them skewered.”  I say, the irony honestly.

“It's a thematic dish. My heart certainly feels skewered.” Hannibal says as he turns to me.

“You have the scars to prove it.” I say as I touch the marks on Hannibal's neck where he was hanged. As he grips my Forearm softly, careful not to hurt me. He admires the bandages that cover my sutured arms. “So do you, I feel as though that noose were still around my neck. It's strange to have nightmares. Never used to.” He says as he grazes my hand with his thumb. The nightmares. Mine are different from his. I killed a man. Yes, he wouldve killed me and Hannibal but its different. Its been so long since i shot someone. Almost 12 years since I Killed, Took my first life.

“Don't make the mistake I've made.” I say softly, “Which is?”

“Being your own psychiatrist. I'm always psychoanaylzing myself. Its always one step forward and three steps back.” I say as i stare at our matching wrappings. “It's the safest course. I'm metabolizing the experience by composing a new piece of music.” He says as he sighs. 

“Harpsichord or theremin?” I ask politely,  “Harpsichord. Stravinsky said, "A true composer thinks about his unfinished work the whole time; he's not always conscious of this, but he's aware of it when he suddenly knows what to do." Hannibal says fondly, “Do you know what to do?”

“I need to get my appetite back.” He smiles at her and raises his glass. Sips red wine.

PARKING LOT - DAY-

the man-tree on the horizon, asphalt stretching toward. a PD CRUISER, then another, an AMBULANCE and then an FBI CRIME SCENE VAN. An ever-increasing cordon of flashing lights and POLICE OFFICERS. Finally, a BLACK SUV rolls in.

Jack takes in the scene. Looks at the tortured figure built into the tree, his frozen scream. JIMMY PRICE and BRIAN ZELLER are starting to assess the tableau. They talk. Jack just stares. “He's been literally grafted in place -- these are living roots.” Jimmy says in awe of the Rippers artistry. “He's got varicose vines. Threaded through from his heels, under his legs, his back, through his torso and out his fingertips. Followed some pretty tricky endoscopic surgical paths.” Zeller points out. 

“Chesapeake Ripper usually cherry- picks his organs. He took every last one. Except for the lungs.” Jimmy says as he hears a car pull up, A black SUV.  “Stocking his shelves.” Zeller says turning his head to look at the car.

“There'll be something about the lungs. Why else leave them?” Jack says as he  steps forward and looks at the corpse. The artfully-arranged flowers. It offends him. “The time he devotes to what he does. He takes real pride. Belladonna for the heart, a chain of white oleander for the intestines, ragwort for the liver.”

“The flowers are all poisonous.” I say stepping on scene. The looks i get are ones of surprise. “This is judgment. Ripper believes his victim was toxic. A poisonous man. Who is he to moralize?” I continue, It feels weird to be back so soon but I have lives to save. I watch as Jack stares at the body like it speaks just to him.

“He's the eye of a storm. Working in a place of calm while the winds blow us all over. He's so damn certain, it makes me sick.” Jack says as he turns to me, I give him a soft smile. I know hes been through a lot lately.

BAU - MORGUE - DAY-

Standing on a foot ladder, Brian Zeller runs a small CHAINSAW through the branches rising out of the Tree Man's head.  Y/N L/N, Jack Crawford, and Jimmy Price  All wearing PROTECTIVE EYEWEAR, speaking over the chainsaw BUZZ. “His name is Sheldon Isley. Baltimore city councilman.” Jimmy says as Zeller ceases chainsawing to add: “Ripper's a politician now.”

“At least a conservationist. Five, six years ago, Isley brokered a woodlands development deal despite the disapproval of the EPA.” Jimmy says, he himself is a conservationist. “Councilman Isley paved paradise and put up a parking lot.” Jack shrugs. “What he paved was an important nesting habitat for endangered songbirds. The son of a bitch.” Jimmy says as we watch  Zeller reach into the branches and pulls out a nest.

“Autopsy gave us what you'd expect from the Chesapeake Ripper. Pre-mortem surgical dissection, latex glove impressions, body posed before rigor set in.” Zeller says, and I nod, the veins in the legs clearly well- at least to me. Point out the cause of death. Drowning. “What have those lungs coughed up?”

“Water. Councilman drowned. Lungs are filled with aspirated water.” Zeller points out the Tree Man's legs. I smirk internally, still got it. Today I’m alone on this case, well besides jack. “He was standing in water up to his thighs for forty-eight to seventy-two hours prior to his death.”

“To feed the tree?”

“It's possible.” Zeller says as Price guides Jack to a microscope with a video feed. “Here's the exciting part. Tree Man actually bears fruit.” A PLASMA SCREEN: Curious, geometric single-cell creatures flick back and forth. “Diatoms. Unicellular colonies. Good as fingerprints. No two water sources have the same diatom population.”

“The water in his lungs gives us a location of death. Show me.” A map of Virginia. “Fifty-mile radius -- here.” He traces a circle in the Virginia woods. Jack stares at it, contemplating his next move.

BSHCI - WILL GRAHAM'S CELL - DAY-

“You understand the reality of Beverly Katz's death. You understand your role in that.” Hannibal asks the emotionless Will. “What was my role?” Will tilts his head in question. “Beverly died at your behest. You're as angry with yourself as you are with whoever murdered her.” Hannibal claims.

“Actually, I'm not. I'm singularly angry at whoever murdered her.” Will says confidently.  “You tried to kill me, Will. It's hard not to take that personally. However, if I were Beverly's murderer, I'd applaud your effort.” Hannibal says, He knows how to hurt Will. He wont hurt someone per say but it will Anger Will. “I'm no more guilty of what you've accused me of than you are of what I have accused you of.” Will says Defiantly.

“Jack Crawford believes you were responsible.” Hannibal says almost in a reasoning sense. “Where does responsibility begin and end, Dr. Lecter? With a final act or the events that led to it?” Will asks with a raised brow. “I don't expect you to feel self-loathing or regret or shame. You knew what you were doing and you made your own decisions. Decisions that were under your control. And they got someone you love Hurt. “ Hannibal says in a darker tone. 

“You think I'm in control? I would never Hurt Y/N. Not Intentionally.”

“I think you're more in control now than you've ever been. You found a way to hurt me, Will. I wonder how many more people are going to be hurt by what you do.”

“I'll give Y/N your best.” It's a veiled threat and they both know it. “Good-bye, Will” He turns his Back to Will, not amused...

BAU - MORGUE - DAY-

TECHNICIANS wheel a sheet-covered body into the morgue where Tree Man now lies on a gurney.

Another gurney is wheeled into the swiftly-filling space. Zeller and Price waiting to receive it.

Jack Crawford watching this escalation of bodies through the glass.

HANNIBAL LECTER'S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - NIGHT-

The STRING QUARTET plays Mozart's "Dissonance" as a party is in full swing with well-heeled GUESTS. Four SERVERS emerge from the dining room, one then the other coming INTO FOCUS as they pass through FRAME, like dancers in a chorus line, and head into the room. The servers spread through the crowd with platters thatguests turn to take food from, creating a swirl of movement through the room.

 amidst the crowd and through them. As servers move on and two guests turn to chat, they

reveal Jack Crawford, newly arrived. Jack surveys the room.Hands take morsels of food from the servers' trays and pop them into their mouths. Teeth bite and gnash. Jack watches as they chew and swallow -- going SLO-MO as they chew and then back to NORMAL SPEED for the swallow.

He can see Hannibal talking to two guests. Y/N is nearby. She’s talking to Alana.  Alana takes an hors d'oeuvre from a passing tray, a morsel of meat on a pick, and eats it.

Dr. Chilton approaches and saddles up alongside Jack, eyeing the hors d'oeuvres as they move through the room. “Prosciutto roses. Heart tartare. Beef roulade. Needless to say, I won't be eating the food.” Chilton says uneased with the dishes. “Dr. Chilton.”

“Hannibal the Cannibal. That's what they'll call him, you know.” Chilton says amused. 

“Not according to Abel Gideon.” Jack says weery. “Gideon's caused me enough trouble today. The fact that he lied to you makes me even more certain he was telling Will Graham the truth.” Chilton eyes the roast pig's head on the buffet table. “Why did you come here tonight if you're so convinced?” Jack says 

“Darwinism. I don't want him to think I suspect anything. Keeping my mouth shut on the whole affair.” Chilton says as Jack watches Hannibal. The server returns with a Tupperware

with a lid. Jack takes it in his hands. “Help yourself.” Jack takes a latex glove from his pocket and uses it to place food into the Tupperware. Hannibal glances across the room to see Dr. Chilton watching the exchange curiously. As Jack seals the container, Hannibal smiles sadly.

“Eat it soon or it'll spoil.”

BAU - CORRIDOR - NIGHT-

Jack holds the food container as he greets Brian Zeller and Jimmy Price who are emerging from evidence processing. “Test this.” A DISTINCTIVE NOTE of a harpsichord punctuates the exchange.

HANNIBAL LECTER'S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - NIGHT-

The room has been tidied, but evidence of the party remains. Y/N sits at Hannibal's harpsichord, doubling the KEYS she's playing until it becomes clear she's performing a slow, dreamy version of "The Swan." Hannibal slides next to her. She smiles and he watches her for a moment, then starts playing his composition at the opposite end of the keyboard.

“The ending to my composition has been alluding me. You may have solved my problem with "The Swan."” They smile as they play, hands crossing over the keys, pushing their shoulders together.

“If only all problems could be solved with a simple waltz. Jack's treating you like a suspect.

He's pointing fingers in the dark.” I say, I wish i was scared of what i knew Hannibal was capable of. I know what he is and who he is. “I've walked away from Will, but I'm still trailing his accusations.” Hannibal says.

“I cant walk away. No matter how much I wish I wanted to. He’s my partner.” I say softly as my fingers grace the keys. “What does walking away leave us?” 

“Each other.” Hannibal looks at Y/N, admiring her, appreciating her. Y/N turns to face Hannibal. He feels her gaze and turns to her, their hands stilled on the keys. His hand reaches up and grazes her cheek softly, she leans into his touch. He kisses her softly, leaving her room to pull away. And pull away she did.

“This- This is wrong.” I say softly, though my body says otherwise. My hands rest on his chest. “What is so wrong about ones affection for another.” Hannibal says as he cups my face in his hands. “I’m with Will…” I say as I close my eyes. “Will needs to learn how to share.” He smirks. And Kisses me. One of his hands trail down to hold my waist. As my hands slide up to his hair. 

HANNIBAL LECTER'S HOUSE - BEDROOM - NIGHT- We stumble into the Bedroom, Hands clawing at each others clothing. Desperate to be relieved of them. He kicks the door behind us closed. I smile into our lustful bliss, He leads us to the bed without his lips ever leaving my skin. His touch scourches my soul, leaving handprints that shall never leave my being.

He pushes me down onto the bed. He’s in control. He possesses my body, mind, and soul in this very moment. I'm afraid he'll never release me. I sit up, my hands going to the buttons on his dress shirt. His lips leave a trail of bruising marks on my neck. His hands unzip my backless dress. I kick off my heels that should've been discarded earlier. The straps of my dress fall down my shoulders.

Hannibal’s dress shirt, suit jacket, and vest have been discarded to the floor by now, leaving him in his belt, pants, and what's underneath. He pulls the straps of my dress to reveal the skin beneath. I quickly go to cover myself, but he grabs my wrists gently but tight enough to stop me.

Hannibal gazes down upon my body, my dress now joining my heels on the floor. I advert his burning Gaze. “Perfect, you are a masterpiece dear. A Living piece of Art” He says as he takes both of my wrists into one of his hands, the other lifts my chin to meet his Gaze. I flush red, feeling the heat in my cheeks and the pooling in my panties. Glad i'm wearing lace. He unpins my hair from its style, my curls fall framing my face. I bite my lip, he pulls it free with his thumb and kisses me hungrily. I moan into the kiss, Hannibal takes the opportunity to bite my lip drawing Blood from it. I gasp and look up at the much older man, He smirks and strokes my cheek. My hands go to his belt, my eyes never leave his. One of Hannibal’s hands trails down my body, coaxing shivers from my body. His fingers dip into my panties, my Breathing hitches. “So wet. Does Will ever make you this wet?” He asks darkly, I nod softly. There had been a few occasions where Will had Aroused me to this extent. 

He looks at me like I'm Prey. Like he could eat me alive. And let's be honest, He probably could. He pushes me down, and Tears my panties off me swiftly. I gasp as he spreads my legs and kneels before me. The sight of it makes me somehow wetter.

Its like the Devil kneeling before an Angel. I lean onto my elbows to watch as he kisses up my legs, my head falls back as he softly blows on my heat. I softly Whimper. He litters my inner thighs with kisses and hickeys. Then finally he brings his mouth to where i need it most.

Hannibal's tongue licks a stripe up my pussy. He groans at the taste; “You taste Divine.” He smirks and then attaches his mouth to my cunt, drinking me in. My hand tangles in his hair as the other grips the comforter tightly.  “Fuck…” I moan out the profanity, I feel him smirk against my heat. He grips my thigh with one hand as the other trails its fingers along my entrance. He pushes two long fingers into me, causing me to buck and moan out other unintelligible profanities and words of praise. 

He hikes my leg over his shoulder, my hand tangled in his hair softly tugs him closer. Im a moaning mess, He sets the pace with his fingers and curls them, expertly hittling my g-spot as he attaches his lips to my clit. 

“Oh Fuck! Hannibal.” I moan loudly, Alerting him that he found it.  If he had neighbors they'd surely hear me. I quickly feel the familiar burn of an oncoming orgasm, my pussy clenches around his fingers and he pulls way causing me to let out a pathetic whimper.

“Not yet Butterfly.” He says softly as he removes my leg from his shoulder. He leans over me and Kisses me softly, I moan softly at the taste of myself on his lips and tongue. I Kiss along his jaw and down his neck. Politely not leaving any marks. My hands unbutton his pants and i bite my lip. I knew it wasn't right. I Love Will. But there's just something about Hannibal that coaxes the dark and dangerous part of me out. 

I flip us over and straddle his thighs as he watches me with a dark smile. I kiss up his stomach, abs and chest, until I reached his lips. He grips my waist and kept me pressed to him in our passionate kiss. Until i pulled away. I tugged at his pants and he allowed me to take them off. I hear him chuckle darkly.

“What?” i ask innocently, I look up at him softly. He cups my cheek and his thumb strokes my cheek bone. “Such a good Girl.” He praises, I whimper at said praise. I focus on my task at hand. I look back up at him silently asking permission. My hands needy, grasping at his boxers. He shakes his head with a smile as he strokes my cheek. My eyebrows furrow confused. “Not tonight Butterfly.” He flips us back over. Hannibal chuckles. He strokes my hair and kisses me. I relax and sigh into the kiss. His hands explore my body, mapping out the soft skin. My arms wrap around his neck, and pull him closer. He kisses along my neck, his tongue tasting the salt on my skin. He pulls back and admires the work he has done on my neck. I reach up and brush the hair from his face. Hannibal looks back up at me and kisses me passionately. I wrap my legs around his waist, grinding up on his bulge, desperate for friction.

Hannibal moans at the action and pulls back to look at me. My face flushed. I bite my lip as he strokes my hair and tucks it behind my ear. I grind up again and he kisses me roughly.

His hands pin mine above my head, he grips them both with one hand. He lines himself up with my entrance. I moan and whimper, wanting nothing more than for him to be inside me. His other hand holds my hip, his thumb strokes the skin there. I feel his tip tease my entrance, I let out a pathetic whine. He looks into my eyes and then slides into me. We both moan, and he lets out a low growl. He bottoms out inside of me and I gasp. My back arches and my eyes roll back.

My hands grip the pillow, Hannibal releases his grip on them. He leans down and kisses me softly as he pulls back and slowly thrusts back in. I moan into the kiss and my nails drag across his scalp, making him growl into the kiss. His hands hold onto my hips tightly, I know they'll leave a mark. He thrusts into me at a slow pace, letting me feel every inch of him. He groans and moans, I love the sounds he makes.

His thrusts start getting rougher, more animalistic. My legs wrap around his waist and my heels dig into his lower back, pushing him further into me. The sound of our skin slapping is music to my ears, and i know that I can't hold back anymore.

I gasp and moan. I claw at his back, and he buries his face in the crook of my neck. His breath is hot against my skin, his teeth scrape my skin and I whimper. Hannibal thrusts harder and faster, hitting deeper with every thrust. I cry out as the all too familiar burn starts to form, my toes curl. Hannibal groans, his cock twitches inside me. I can tell he's getting close, too. His pace gets more erratic and less rhythmic.

He bites my shoulder, marking me. Claiming me as his. I scream out, the pain and pleasure overwhelming my senses. I feel him cum inside me, hot and sticky. The sensation of it sends me over the edge, my orgasm hits and i cum on his cock. We ride out our orgasms together, he slows his pace and kisses along my neck. He releases the skin of my shoulder from his teeth. He licks the blood and cleans the wound.

HANNIBAL LECTER'S HOUSE - BEDROOM - NIGHT-

Her skin is in stark contrast to the crimson bedding. Hannibal sleeps soundly next to Y/N. After a moment, he opens his eyes. He watches Y/N. He finally stands. He takes Y/N's wineglass from the bedside table. With a white cloth, he wipes the rim, then sets the glass back down. He snaps his fingers close to her ears; she doesn't stir. He looks again at Y/N’s sleeping, then leaves.

HOSPITAL - DR. GIDEON'S ROOM - NIGHT-

l he lies propped up in a hospital bed, curtains drawn all around on an oval frame. His face is bruised. IV drips and monitoring are hooked up to his body. A THICK BANDAGE around his TORSO. We HEAR the door to the room open and then slowly close. Gideon's eyes open as FOOTSTEPS squeak on the floor. He sees a tall SHADOW behind the CURTAINS as it approaches.He watches as the shadow moves toward the foot of the bed. SLOW and TENSE. The curtains are drawn back and a tall figure in surgical scrubs, gloves and a MASK stands before him. He pulls down his mask to reveal Hannibal Lecter. “Hello, Dr. Gideon.”

“I knew you'd come.” Hannibal smiles at Gideon.

HOSPITAL - DR. GIDEON'S ROOM - DAWN-

Early morning light begins to creep through the windows.the curtains surrounding Gideon's bed, a GHOULISH SILHOUETTE hangs beyond them. A FLASH ignites behind the curtain, the silhouettes of TWO MEN examining the body. Jack Crawford as he approaches. He opens

the curtains to find Brian Zeller taking forensic photos of the body as Jimmy Price dusts for fingerprints.

THE BODY It seems to be floating on his belly, horizontally suspended two feet above the bed. His skin is pinched/stretched/pulled many different directions by WIRE FISHING LEADERS. Each line ends in a handcrafted HOOK -- the barb pushed through the skin of the dead man's back, arms and legs. But that dead man is not Abel Gideon. Instead, it is a BALTIMORE POLICE OFFICER, his gun belt still around the waist of his uniform pants. His torso is BARE and opened, the skin held back in flaps attached by fishhooks. The contents of his abdomen on the bed below, his badge sits on top. The finger clip from the MONITORS is attached to his hand. “Put a heart monitor on the guard so no one'd know Gideon was missing, least for as long as it took the guard to die, which wasn't long.” Zeller says.

“Long enough.” Jimmy indicates the dead police officer. “Fishhooks. Hand-tied flies. Like the ones Will Graham used to make. This one has human hair. A tooth.” Jimmy says as he indicates the parts in the flybaits. “There's no way Gideon could have done any of this with his injuries, much less get out of bed.” Zeller clarifies.

“Last time Gideon escaped custody, he was trying to find the Chesapeake Ripper. Found him all right. And tonight, the Ripper found Gideon.”

HANNIBAL LECTER'S HOUSE - BEDROOM - EARLY MORNING-

Y/N asleep in Hannibal's bed. She stirs slightly and slowly opens her eyes. Hannibal sleeps quietly next to me. I stare peacefully at the ceiling, the morning after sleeping with a friend. What the Hell have I done?  As I begin to think too much, I realize Hannibal has opened his eyes and is watching me.

“You're awake.” I say with a soft sigh and a smile. “So are you.”

“Was thinking about What we did. How I betrayed Will. My heart is torn. And I don't know why.” I say softly as my smile starts to drop. He Caresses my cheek and brushes away a stray hair in my face.  “Of course your heart is torn. You love Will. But you also care for me as well.” 

“But I feel that is unfair. Not to me but to the both of you.” I say softly  “It isn't unfair, I know how to share. And I'm certain Will does too.” He kisses me, then stops and looks at me reassuringly: I kiss him back. BING-BONG. The doorbell rings. BING-BONG.  “Last time someone rang my doorbell this early, it was a census taker.” He goes in to kiss me again before BING-BONG and begrudgingly Hannibal rises from the bed, shrugs on a robe. Hannibal goes to the curtains and draws them -- revealing the morning sun and allowing it to spill into the room.

“I'll see who it is.”

HANNIBAL LECTER'S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - MOMENTS LATER-

three loud RAPS on a heavy oak door. The peephole goes dark, then -- Hannibal opens the door to find Jack Crawford standing outside.

“Hello, Jack.” Hannibal says as he  leads Jack into the living room. “What can I do for you?”

“Gideon took a fall down a stairwell last night. Was hospitalized. Security guard standing watch was killed in what looks to be another Chesapeake Ripper murder. Now Gideon is nowhere to be found.” Jack explains and looks at him expectantly.

“He escaped?”

“We know he didn't walk out of the hospital. His back was broken. Someone took him. Someone he knew. Where were you last night?”

Hannibal Hesitates “I was Here.”

“All night?”

“Yes.”

“Anyone besides you can verify that?” Hannibal's quiet a moment. Then, from behind Jack: “I can.” I say wrapped in one of Hannibal's Button-ups, it goes down to my mid-thigh. Jack turns. He flashes surprise, but tamps it quickly.

“I was here with Hannibal all night, Jack. What are you accusing him of?” I ask as Hannibal reads Jack's frustration and perhaps relief. But there's a chance he woke up. Why the Hell am i not upset that i most likely Fucked the Chesapeake Ripper. “I'm not accusing him of anything. Only asking his whereabouts.”

“That's not all you were asking.” Jack looks evenly at them, nods, forced to accept that

Hannibal isn't the Chesapeake Ripper...

BAU - EVIDENCE PROCESSING - DAY-

Brian Zeller stands in front of a monitor. Jimmy Price and Jack Crawford look on. “Not cows. Wagyu beef. I'd say, a hundred dollars worth right there.”

“Sure it wasn't Kobe?” Zeller asks his fellow tech. Jimmy rolls his eyes: “All Kobe is Wagyu, but not all Wagyu is Kobe. Least we know Dr. Lecter wasn't serving up people.”

“Want people? The Chesapeake Ripper was tying flies with them. Just like Will Graham allegedly did.”

BAU - MORGUE - MOMENTS LATER-

Brian Zeller, Jimmy Price and Jack standing over a row of FISHING LURES taken from the security guard's back.

“Hair woven into the monofilament is Beverly's. Bone fragments from Miriam Lass. Veining from Sheldon Isley. Optic nerves and arteries from Judge Davies. A toenail from James Gray, our Muralist.” Zeller points to the DNA matches. A fly hook. Cleverly crafted, with bits of dark, organic material woven into the monofilament. A bone fragment. Veining coiled around hook and feather. An optic nerve entwined with bark.

“All Chesapeake Ripper victims.” Zeller says as Jimmy indicates four lures, in partial stages of

deconstruction, in individual grids. “These four lures here are almost identical to the ones we found at Will's house, made with materials from the exact same human remains. Abigail Hobbs, Marissa Schuur, Donald Sutcliffe, Georgia Madchen.” Jimmy points out.

“Will didn't kill any of them. There was no Copycat. It was always the Ripper. He's finally taking credit for those murders.” Jack realizes Will never killed anyone other than Garret Jacob Hobbs.

“May be taking too much credit. We found something else in the lures.” With tweezers, Jimmy plucks a curled, wispy wood shaving from one of the deconstructed fly grids.

“Madrona bark. It's a tree almost nonexistent on the East Coast. But this bark was peeled recently.”

Zeller gestures to the map of the area. “There's a small stand of madrona in Virginia.”

“Inside your diatom search area.” Zeller zooms in with his hand, à la an iPad. “Here.”

VIRGINIA BARN - NIGHT-

Moonlight on crisp white snow. The hulking black shadow of a heavily-built wooden barn stands stark against the white. we hear the low rumble of a car engine, to find a black sedan pulling up on the opposite side of the barn. JACK CRAWFORD and  DR. Y/N L/N Exit the car. Takes in the barn; the two heavy gate doors barred on the outside. Jack pulls out his gun and a Maglite and walks toward it, his feet crunching on the snow. Their breath frosts the air. Jack walks up the wooden ramp to the heavy doors.

Blackness, except for slivers of faint moonlight shining through the wooden beams. We hear the sound of the heavy bar eing thrown. And then the door opens and a piercing FLASHLIGHT BEAM.. Jack and Y/N silhouetted behind it as he enters the barn slowly. He plays the flashlight around the space, cautious. Tense.

.

Cobwebs and old wood. Heavy old machinery and hand tools. Dust in the air. A SKITTERING SOUND and Jack swings the light and gun -- catching a RAT scurrying for cover... Jack  and Y/N move on. Something shines in the beam and Jack moves toward it. A new steel padlock on an old door. Incongruous. Y/N looks around to be cautious of her surroundings.

A rending sound of wood and metal. A door opens to reveal a flight of wooden stairs, looking up

at Jack and Y/N.

 Y/N throws down the iron bar she used to force the lock. Jack Shines his light right at the bottom as they start down the stairs -- Jack moves down the wooden stairs, gun and flashlight before him. Y/N shines her own light to reveal a dark, low cellar space, the concrete floor dominated by the tops of two circular WATER CISTERNS.

Jack and Y/N scan the room, Their flashlight beams our only light source, casting harsh shadows and movements. Jack checks the room for danger -- light reflecting off dirt-smeared windows in the far wall; blackness reflecting back from the other side.

MOVEMENT Y/N stills as she hears it. Heart thumping. A scraping sound. BELOW HER…She moves to the cisterns, the old stone topped with much newer METAL LIDS. she pulls the first one off -- flashes the light into it – dark water rises a third of the way up the steep slick sides.

SCRITCH – The sound again. Y/N moves to the other cistern. Can definitely hear something inside... (AN: BTW i wrote the SMUT scene while listening to "I am not afraid anymore" by Halsey, and whew it really goes with the scene)

[f1oricide]

Yan Michelangelo hc

OK so-

I literally had a thought abt this and it was so jarring and crazy I had to write abt it. Keep in mind that writing is NOT my strong suit so bare with me okay. Also for the record I don’t condone any of this stuff Irl okay, there’s a diff between fantasy and reality.

TW: dark, possessive themes, gore, blood, cannibalism, mentions of worship, nonconsensual touching (not sexual), kidnapping, delulu Mikey <3

When you guys first meet, after the initial freak out you might have, he gets attached quick

It’s love at first sight <3

Could you blame him tho? He’s socially outcasted from society ofc not-

Anything you want? You got it! He will do anything to get that thing you barely mentioned wanting, no matter what

He would definitely try budding in every time your with anybody but him

Skateboarding with Leo? He happens to walk in with a skateboard. Having a tea party with Raph? You guys look like your running out of tea, but don’t fear! Your new butler is here!

Point is, he’s fine with sharing your time because like all good things, it’s even better when shared! He just has to be there too…you don’t mind right?

Won’t mind if you get a partner…

Just don’t expect to hear from them if they have the AUDACITY to make you so much as frown-

He doesn’t need to be your center of attention 24/7, he’s a secure turtle after all. He just wants to be near you, to keep you happy and safe!

Even if you can’t tell he’s there-

He is a VERY Delusional Yandere, you can be doing the most devious, horrendous war crimes and he’ll still think your a saint, everyone else is in the wrong for being in your way

Anyone who talks bad abt you, well… you can’t waste perfectly tenderized meat can you!

Real talk for a sec, I see a lot of people hc Mikey to be a heavy worshipper but I don’t think he’d think your a GOD, going down on his knees for you, but I think he’d see you as a angel and treat you as such

How? Lots and LOTS of cuddles (even if you don’t want to), positive affirmations, and overall codling

Cutie pie, angel, sweet potato, expect lots of cheesy nicknames

Now onto the juicy stuff-

Cooking, in his opinion, is a form of ART! Something to express himself with while also sharing that experience with his loved ones

Putting so much blood sweat and tears into perfecting his craft, creating a delectable meal for all

So imagine his (not so) sudden shock when he starts fantasizing abt you…eating him…literally…

HEAR ME OUT OKAY PLEASE-

In that one meat sweats ep, he was SO DOWN TO BE EATEN, because he sees Rupert in a higher light, he’s his idol!

He put his own blood sweat and tears for you, your his everything! This is his declaration of love for you and you alone, the one dish he won’t give to anybody else

At first he felt an immense satisfaction when you chowed down on the dishes he made specially for you, the sight made his chest swell!

But soon that feeling faded, something inside him started wanting more, until it eventually became Mikey’s every waking thought, pounding against his ribs until it’s satisfied again

So he did what any rational person would do! Invite you down for a taste test! Hah you thought I would say kidnapping didn’t you?

…

Well your right, he may or may not have laced those pastries you were taste testing

“Think of it as a forever slumber party! I knew you’d be just as excited as me, can’t hold in those happy tear too huh? :’)”

He really believes you want to stay as much as he wants you to stay, doesn’t matter what you do, you’ll always be his saint, wanting to stay by his side <3

You have a specially made “room” hidden in his room, that you stay in

Has all the necessities and everything, thanks dee

He often comes by to chat, make arts and crafts, and cuddle you, he’s barely out of his room even his brothers start to worry

Can’t have his brothers believe your…”funny” jokes now huh? They’d ruin the fun!

Starts to ever so slowly try to get you to agree with his… idea

Slowly starts incorporating more meat into the meals he makes you, mentioning how turtle is a delicacy in some places- you get the idea

But in Mikey fashion, he doesn’t like to wait to get what he wants

He suddenly starts asking you strange questions from, “did you know that cute hamsters cannibalize each other? CRAZY right!?” To “have you ever wanted to know what turtle taste like..?”

Eventually his patience thins and nervously asks the big question, but you’d understand right? Ofc you would! He shouldn’t be so nervous around you!

Ofc after hearing his request you start to understandably freak out, will he want to take a bite out of you too? Is this it? You don’t want to die like this!

Don’t worry! he could never ruin perfection, your a work of art!

(He’ll be happy breaking your skin with his teeth and lapping up the blood tho)

Surprisingly, he won’t FORCE you to do it, but be prepared for his mighty persistence and requests

He’s pretty much trying to hype you up

If you cave he is OVER THE MOON

He is inside you.. LITERALLY (idk how else to phrase it don’t be weird pls-)

Constant praise and affection is what you earn while you contemplate what you had just done

If you don’t cave, he’ll start to get a bit aggressive with his hype, and starts slowly giving you less and less food you until you do it-

Before he kidnapped you he was a bit clingy, but AFTER? Attached to your hip 24/7 baby

5/10 experience, you will be scarred for life leaving you with a bad taste in your mouth. But other than that expect lots and lots of cuddles and delicious not human food!

Sorry if it’s a bit all over the place, pls lmk if I made a spelling/grammar mistake. Writing this was actually very fun, I might do more in the future until I draw again. Maybe I’ll do both!Okay thx for reading tho bye :>

-f1oricide <3

[strawbeerossi]

I seen that you write angst and I have an idea to share with you because of some personal things that I went through with my own family.

Do you think you can write something about fem!reader and Spencer finding out that one of their children has leukemia? Maybe with death involved to show how intricate this situation can affect families? I know it’s a very loaded topic so I completely understand if you don’t wanna do it but I think you’d master the topic beautifully based off of your angst writing. ❤️

I hope you’re doing alright today, Tay

First off, I’m so sorry for your loss, lovebug. I hope I do this justice and thank you for trusting me with this topic. My DMs are open if you ever need to talk. 🩵

And I'm good today, thank you, honey.

Vilomah: Bereaved Parents

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Description: After their son succumbs to his illness, the Reid parents have to navigate the grieving process together along with the team who are there to help.

Content Warning: Child death, leukemia, details about a hospital stay, extreme grief after loss, a child’s funeral, parental grief, mentions struggles with eating, spousal argument, lots of tears, descriptions of feeling empty and depression, the team is there for the Reids, spousal comfort, hurt/comfort.

Word Count: 3.3K

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I cried like a baby writing this. I hope I captured what you were looking for anon.

“Memories saturate my heart and the story of you spills from my eyes.” – Grace Andren

There were many horrors that Spencer faced in his line of work; murderers, rapists, cannibals, the lot of it. He was also faced with grief more often than not, losing Maeve and Gideon being the two most notable times where he was forced to face the fact that everybody dies at some point, no matter who they are. 

That wasn’t enough to prepare him for the cruelest thing life had to throw at him. Benjamin was diagnosed with leukemia when he was just two months shy of four-years-old, more specifically it was Chronic Myeloid Leukemia. 

The first few months were seemingly okay. He was responding well with the treatment, his little body growing stronger with each passing day. There were plenty of ice cream days to celebrate whenever Ben could function as good as he could before the cancer. Not to mention all the gifts his aunt Penelope would send.

There was hope, so much hope that Y/N and Spencer didn’t let the thoughts of losing their son loom over their head.

That was until he got sick again, this time much worse. It happened suddenly, Ben went from eating some fruit snacks and watching a movie to losing consciousness and growing pale. Spencer never thought he could get home faster than what he did when he got the phone call. Emily sent him home immediately after hearing the news, telling him to get home to his family and that she would check in.

The next few weeks were spent in the hospital, the bright lights being harsh on the eyes of the sore eyes of the Reid parents. Y/N didn’t sleep but for a few hours a night, any small movement or sound from Ben or his machines waking her up. Spencer had grown to not sleep for that long, surviving off maybe an hour a night and ten cups of coffee to push forward the following morning.

However, the suffocating realization of the inevitable was starting to soak in. Spencer wanted nothing more than for his son to make a recovery but as a man of science, that hope dissipated as he noticed the signs. People got better before death, so whenever Ben was showing all the signs of surging, it was enough to kill Spencer.

Even after they had a conversation with their doctor, the woman telling them that surging typically happens one to two days before death, it was like Y/N wouldn’t take that. She would say that he was fine, that he was healing. 

It was denial. 

The day they lost him was the hardest of them all. The air was suffocating that morning, there being a bitter winter chill. Spencer had gone to work, as usual. There was a case, one about a man who was killing women who resembled his birth mother after she rejected him from her life. He was distracted, like any father on the verge of losing his child would be.

He knew he shouldn’t have gone to work but he was losing his mind, being overwhelmed with the knowledge of the inevitable. He liked to think that if he and Y/N didn’t discuss it, it wasn’t real. As a man of science, he knew the risks of believing something like that.

Still, he gave himself false hope. 

However, his heart stopped beating for a split second as he could feel his phone buzzing, the world freezing around him as he couldn’t hear the others around him. He knew what this call was. It took JJ shaking Spencer’s shoulders to snap him out of his thoughts. “I have to go.” 

Making it to the hospital, he dreaded going inside. However, he was running through the hospital doors not bothering to check in at the front desk as he was going as fast as his legs could carry him to reach his son’s hospital room. 

Judging by the heart wrenching screams of agony from his wife on the other side of the door, Spencer knew what to expect as his shaking hand was opening the hospital door. The sight of his wife cradling their son was enough to make him drop to his knees. 

The nurses and doctors looked at the small family, feeling the sting of heartache as they’d gotten to know the Reid’s over the past year.

Spencer’s legs were like jelly, the tears cascading his face being enough where he was sure he could fill up the hospital room in tears, enough to drown in. They were able to stay as long as they wanted to, even if it was hours later. 

“Do you have his blanket?” Y/N asked, voice raw from the screaming and uncontrollable sobbing from before. “I don’t want him to get cold..” She whispered, looking at their son who looked like he was sleeping against his father’s chest. “In the bag.” The words were shaky, the father keeping his son close while letting his forehead rest against Benjamin’s smaller one.

After they were laying the little boy down again, Y/N was slowly putting the blanket over the child before she was leaning down to kiss his forehead, which had begun to grow cold from the hours his parents took to say goodbye. The parents clung to one another as they were being forced to walk out of the hospital. 

After that, their life lost all its color. Waking up to an alarm rather than to a happy little boy jumping on their bed just wasn’t the same. There was no laughter in the house, no warmth. The atmosphere was just as cold as the weather outside. No matter how many days that Penelope came over with baskets filled with small goodies to try and lift their spirits, or how Luke would come by to check in and bring food over that the two parents just couldn’t stomach.

The day of the funeral was when every ounce of denial was fizzing away. Next came anger. Y/N was moving a bit slow, honestly not wanting to rush and be greeted with the sad looks of their friends and family. Spencer was ready twenty minutes prior, wanting to rush the grieving process and just accept everything immediately, even if it was impossible.

“Please hurry up.” His voice was laced with irritation, making wife look up from her shoes as she was playing with the strap. “I am hurrying..” She spoke softly, a frown on her face as she slowly got the shoes on. “You don’t have to have an attitude, by the way.” 

That was the start of something ugly.

“Well, you don’t have to take thirty years and expect Benji to walk through the door.” The words were deep cutting, very uncharacteristic of the loving man she married.The words had his wife stunned in place, her mouth falling open. “You don’t have to be an asshole and keep reminding me of where we are going.” She spat, moving to brush her hair back before standing.

“You can’t keep acting like things are going to change. He’s gone, Y/N. No matter how bad we want him back, we will never get him back.” They were growing angry at one another at the wrong time. Before the yelling could start, there was a soft knock on the door. With a soft sigh, Spencer was turning around and heading to the sound of the soft knocking. 

The sight behind the door was enough to make his heart clench. There was Derek, the man offering a sad smile. “Hey, kid. I came to pick you two up. How’s the missus doing?” He asked, chuckling as Spencer was rushing to tightly hug his best friend, his hand slowly patting the younger male’s back. “Hi Derek.” Y/N offered a weak smile once she was closing the bedroom door. 

“Hey mama.” His voice was soft and careful, heading over to wrap his arms around the woman before kissing her cheek. “I was thinking that after everything, we could all go out to lunch.” He wasn’t stupid, he could tell that the two parents were neglecting themselves, he’d talked to the team. 

This was a sensitive time, so he understood. However, he wasn’t going to sit idly by either. He’d be damned if he let them both slowly waste away. Benjamin sure as hell wouldn’t have wanted that. 

“I don’t know, Derek. I don’t think I can deal with everyone looking at us with pity. You know how many people have told me that they hugged their babies tighter because of this situation? It hurts. Not nearly as helpful as people think..” The woman spoke while slowly rubbing her face.

“It’ll just be us. The team, our family.” He attempted to coax both parents, the two not being able to get out of it in the end.

The three eventually made it to the graveyard where they were confronting the one thing that they didn’t want to face. The Reids were approaching the plot that they’d purchased for the family, Y/N having to collect herself at the sight of the coffin waiting by the open plot. 

“There you two are,” Penelope looked like she’d been sobbing already, her arms wrapping tightly around both parents. That was where the floodgates broke, both of them tightly clutching onto the blonde enough to suffocate her. 

The ceremony was beautiful, despite the flood of tears and pain deep in the chests of all that were closest to the child who they were laying to rest. It was something honorable, Benji even having his uncle Aaron there to say a final goodbye. Even surrounded by love, there was still an emptiness, a void that would never be filled. 

What came next made things worse, the parents having to say goodbye as soon as the casket was being lowered in its plot, Y/N and Spencer wrapped up in one another’s embrace while their hands were clutching each other’s clothing. The wife was letting her head rest against her husband’s shoulder, their tears soaking one another’s clothes and hair.

It was just them now, with the ghost of their sweet angel who would keep a watchful eye over his parents, whether they knew it or not.

Dave was approaching the parents, his hand resting on Spencer’s shoulder as he cleared his throat to catch their attention. “I want you both to know that I will be here for you both, always.” David Rossi, the father of the team, it seemed. As well as being uncle Dave to all the kids, Benji included. 

“I heard that you two agreed to come to lunch.” He spoke softly, eliciting a small smile from Y/N. “We are.” She said softly, truly unable to say no to him. “We are having it in my backyard. Why don’t you two ride with me?” He suggested, making both Spencer and his wife look at one another.

They weren't getting out of this, so they complied and followed behind David.

The only problem was that so many amazing things happened in that backyard, Benji’s baby shower being one of them.

“Baby Reid is getting so big,” JJ gushed, her hand on Y/N’s swollen bump as the woman laughed in content. “Isn’t he? He’s also been kicking the hell out of my ribs, I feel like he's punishing me.” Y/N joked.

Finding out that she was pregnant was the best thing that ever happened. Of course, there were jokes of Spencer and Y/N not even waiting a year after they got married before she was already pregnant.

It was funny, really. Spencer was highly convinced that the baby was conceived on the first week of their honeymoon, the two being a little too into that talk while they were in the middle of sex, the filthy words of her being swollen with his baby becoming literal.

Diana was thrilled the moment that she saw her son and his wife on one of their visits, the woman being more thrilled at the prospect of her little Spencer having a child of his own. She would say that she knew before they even told her. 

“Mothers always know, Spencer. We are animals, we can feel things.” Were her exact words, something that she said Y/N would understand one day.

“Bella!” David smiled, the term of endearment being a newer one that he used for Y/N after the pregnancy, something about how she looked gorgeous because she was glowing. It was sweet, she had to admit it. “Hi, David.” Y/N grinned, her arms wrapping around the older man in a hug before she was pulling away. “You and Penelope did a beautiful job, by the way!”

Almost as if she were summoned, the bubbly blonde was hurrying over to flash a smile. “There you are my gorgeous girl! How are you feeling?” She asked, her hand cautiously rubbing her baby bump once Y/N gave her the okay.

“I’m doing good, actually. This boy is gonna be the death of me though. I was craving dirt the other day.” Her nose crinkled. “Weirdness. However, this baby is a Reid so that’ll explain it better than anything else.” Penelope joked. 

“It’s actually more normal than you might think. One theory links pica cravings to iron deficiencies. Another theory suggests these cravings develop as an adaptive response to the way the immune system changes during pregnancy.” Spencer smiled while letting his arms wrap around his wife from behind, his lips pressing a kiss to her cheek before his hands were coming underneath the heavy bump, lifting it up gently to take some of the pain from his wife’s back.

It was enough to make the woman sigh of relief as her head was tilted back against his shoulder. “You are such a lifesaver.” She breathed while briefly closing her eyes. 

Spencer was attentive and loving, paying attention to her much more after the pregnancy was discovered.

This was a dream.

This was a nightmare, the memories rushing back to Y/N as she was walking into the backyard where all those sweet memories lived. It was emotionally draining, so much so that her hand was reaching aimlessly for Spencer’s.

As soon as her husband realized what she was doing, he was slowly approaching his wife and letting his hand tightly grip onto hers. He didn’t realize how bad they needed this, to have a reminder that they still had each other. He figured it was implied but this made a bit of weight lift off his chest. 

“I know it may be a bit hard to laugh right now,” Penelope began as she was offering a smile. “But I know how much Benji used to love having dinner with all of us, no matter where we went.” She began, making a soft, sad smile spreading across Y/N’s face. 

“So, I figured that I would honor one of my favorite godson’s in the best way possible. Instead of boring adult food, I made extra sure to get the best of the best.” Being a four-year-old, Benjamin was just as picky as the next kid. 

“Don’t tell me,” Spencer began, looking over as she was happily showing off the meal she had catered. It consisted of all the essential food groups of a young child; chicken nuggets, macaroni and cheese, and french fries. 

Hank, Michael, Henry, the Simmons children and Jack were all over the idea of that. The adults, though, couldn’t help the soft laughter. “Benji would definitely approve.” Y/N offered a soft smile, shaking her head fondly. “Even up until the end, he had to have his nuggets.” Spencer added, a few tears springing up in his eyes at the pleasant memory, even in the darkest time of their lives.

“I don’t want that..” Benjamin wrinkled his nose as he was pushing away the soup that the hospital was giving him, making Spencer look up from his book. “It’s good for you, Benji. Try it.” He urged on, a smile as he put the book down after finding his bookmark. 

“Daddy, no. It’s yucky. It smells yucky.” He continued on, the four year old running the spoon through the bowl.

Like his mother, he was dramatic about it, gagging at the mere thought of eating what he was given. “I want chicken nuggets.” He whined out, now looking at his mother, who was sighing in content. 

“Take a few bites and try it! If you try it and you don’t like it, I’ll go get you some nuggets. Sounds fair?” She asked, keeping the stern tone yet offering a sweet smile, knowing damn well that he’d get his way in the end anyway. Even if he liked the soup.

“I’ll try it but I might be sick, mama.” He warned, looking at the broth with vegetables before he was taking a good amount on the spoon.

He eyed it over before pushing it into his mouth. Both parents couldn’t help the laughter falling from their lips as Benji pulled a face, looking offended he was even made to try it.

“Blegh! Nasty!” The animated child was pushing the tray table away as Y/N was already getting up to grab her keys. “I’m going! I’m going! Make sure that you watch your daddy, you know he likes getting into too much trouble.” 

As everyone had a plate in front of them, everyone was looking at the Reids, expectant of them to get up. Derek was the one who was already making two plates before placing them down in front of the two. “There you are pretty boy and pretty girl, no need to get up.” He knew what he was doing.

Even with the lack of appetite, Y/N was slowly picking up her fork before collecting a bit of the mac and cheese on her fork, slowly moving to push the fork in her mouth. She didn’t realize just how hungry she was before that bite. Of course, barely eating for two weeks would do that to you.

Spencer seemed to be on the same page, the two unknowingly eating like they hadn’t eaten in years. The group said nothing about it, although they shared collective glances and their eyes were glistening over with relief. 

They were eating enough to actually keep themselves alive, to keep themselves from falling ill and being stuck in the hospital being fed through IVs. After all they went through, they didn’t need to be in another hospital for a long time.

The rest of the day was spent with their family rather than them being locked up at home, real smiles gracing their features for the first time in forever. Being together in a quiet home was taking a huge hit at their mental health. 

This was what they needed. Their full support system. 

It was later on in the evening before Y/N and Spencer had gotten home, the two ordering takeout for dinner whenever they arrived at home. The wife was looking over the picture of their family that she had hanging up in the kitchen, a soft smile on her face. He looked so peaceful today, didn’t he?” She asked, her voice soft.

“No more pain, no more weakness.. Just peaceful.” Spencer added on, looking up from his hands. “Y/N.. I’m sorry about what I said earlier. It was horrible to say,” He said as his wife was offering a gentle smile. “I understand. It’s hard right now but.. Spencer, I love you. With every fiber of my being. Please remember that.”

It was what he needed to hear, his head nodding. “I know. I love you so much, baby. Thank you. I’m here for you, even if you just need to cry and be taken care of.” The taller man was standing up before heading over to tightly hug his wife. “You’re so strong. So fucking strong.” He spoke softly while kissing the top of her head. 

All they needed to power through this together was each other, they would make it through this for Benji over all else. It was what he would've wanted , their love to persevere. 

[c4n1blc4tgrlcxrps]

girl what.

i have many thoughts about this, so i'm going to put them all here since i don't want to harrass anyone.

so first, you decided to play a game that is very much known for being a horror game about inc3st, demon summoning, murder, and cannibalism.

you then were completely okay with everything but the inc3st. if i used anti logic, that would mean you would be okay with all those other things.

also i'd like to see exactly where in the game it says to go partake in inc3st in real life.

yeah, i know it doesn't say anywhere not to, but it definitely doesn't say that about the other topics in the game either.

also, the game itsself is about horror. it's a horror game. you're mad about a horror element. a horror element in a horror game.

another thing is that whole "one digital crime is way worse than another" bullshit, which i physically can't understand. it's... not real life??

seriously, it is not real. it's literally fake. they are not real people. and anybody who ships them knows that they aren't real people.

it also doesn't affect the real world. how does me liking a game hurt you? how does me liking a ship hurt you? how does this affect anyone in any way?

"oh well people will go and commit inc3st in real life if-" no. no we literally won't. just because i consume d3ad d0ve content does not mean that i want those things to happen in real life.

and yes, maybe there are some people out there who want those things to happen in real life, but not me. and not most people.

i know the person who said this won't ever come to their senses, because people who are against inc3st were in the comments explaining how gross it is, but how it's not real and shouldn't affect them, and they kept saying stupid shit like "okay so yeah you like inc3st, bye."

i really want to know what can make someone like this. honestly, from what i've personally seen, people who are against proship on main are secretly proshippers on an alt.

honestly, i think antis are so weird. if you don't like something, just get over it?

like seriously, i blocked this person almost immediately, because i didn't want to see an anti on my feed. it's really not that hard to just ignore things.

and even if you still hated people who like the game, then you could make a post that is tagged with being anti and talk about exactly what you think makes it harmful.

but the thing is, this person did not tag this post correctly, and when asked to do so, said "i already did" like no. you didn't. take your anti ass back to the antis tags and grumble and groan about fictional crimes that don't affect you and free speech being so wrong where i don't have to hear you.

you can keep talking about the shit that you want, just do it in a space where i can't hear you.

people like this are honestly so ignorant.

[yjzine2024]

Yellowjackets Zine - Applications Open!

You might have seen the poll going around for interest, and well, it convinced me enough to start this up. A zine for Yellowjackets! Yeah!

The plan is to make this a relatively small but hopefully exciting project to cross the current lack of things between seasons. Think you have a good idea? Submit it!

You can apply for the zine via this form

So far I'm thinking of keeping it at max 30 participants, but this mostly comes down to a first-come-first-serve basis. Fear not, I may include you if you have a really cool idea for a submission.

Guidelines for applying are copied below but will also be in the form.

Cheers!

What is a zine? "Zine" is short for magazine. What a Yellowjackets zine would entail is a small, digital booklet with artworks, writing, collages, lists, etc. related to the show that it's all connected to. There are zines that have a print run alongside digital versions, but to keep it all running smoothly, I'd like to keep this digital only. So I can't offer compensation in financial means. This is first and foremost a passion project, and also things would get tricky on a legal front if there were to be any money involved.

So if I want to contribute, it can be anything? Basicallly! But there are some hard rules I would like to be followed for it to stay coherent.

Canon Compliant. Writing or art, hard AUs aren't really something for this zine. It's a little celebration of the show that is there, and tonally there might be too much dissonance if AUs are included in this. Guesses at the yet to be seen months in the Wilderness, or in the present day are very much welcome!

Self-contained works. Putting chapter 1 of your fic in a zine isn't really ideal. For art this is easier to accomplish, but written submissions should be completed within the pages they are on.

Not just shipping. Yes, I know, shipping is big. But like I put in the first point, I would like to keep things more generally on events, plot, characters, and a neat discussion of it. There's of course degrees to how much you can ship within canon in a show like this. It's totally cool if you put something in that is (Basically) Canon (f.e. TaiVan but also JackieShauna) or Has Strong Potential (f.e. LottieLee, MistyNat). Don't come to me with something like Shauna/Walter. Explorations of characters and relationships are of course okay! But don't make it a smut fest.

Nothing too NSFW. This is Cannibalism Show (TM) we're talking about, so there is some leniency. But let's say if you would rate it as E on Ao3, then maybe try to get it a bit lower in rating or think of something different.

(Previously) Unpublished works. This may be a given, but a zine is the most fun when it's full of original content. You are of course free to publish what you made on your own accounts/profiles once the zine is online.

Other than that, it's pretty free to fill in for yourself! What can be published should be able to go in a hypothetically printed magazine, but if you would write fic, and essay, compile a mixtape list, make some meta newspaper article on the events, graphics, collages, a poster design, or banger fanart, it's all up to you as long as it gets you excited to work on it!

I'm splitting them up in written and graphic types of contributions, but there's room to give a pitch for your specific idea.

Practical stuff!

Max wordcount for written contributions should be about 2500 words. I'm not going to be too strict, but keep any overflow within reason.

Graphic works should be able to be displayed well on a 2100x3000px canvas on. This is the size of page I'm using at the moment.

How much time would there be to prep? For now I'm thinking of putting the final deadline on November 30 so hopefully everyone will have time to work on their submission (from scratch). I also gotta get the hang of a publishing design program lol.

[thecoolerliauditore]

THE SHEPSCAPADES COMIC! That was to me (and from my perspective to the fandom) the turning point of “ok, im not imagining this”. It doesn’t change any dialogue or anything, it just gives the characters facial expressions and yet it’s almost impossible to interpret the interaction in any way other than the relationship not being good.

The dl era, to me, was a lot of trying to ignore the implication of ranchers fanon lore being that, for once, someone is being nice to Jimmy. People could see the difference in their interactions, which made the abusive behaviour all the more difficult to ignore, and yet acknowledging this directly would be labelled shipping discourse and no one wants to be THAT fan, right? But the tension growing was palpable.

I also would like to add that once I decided to scroll through anti-toxic fh blogs to try and understand why they think like that and… a lot of it was just “well it makes me feel gross”? And I get it. Cannibalism and mass murder are, to most of us, a very distant concept, so it’s more comfortable to engage with than the horrors of the mundane, especially when applied to a queer character. But that doesn’t mean it’s any better than talking about domestic abuse.

The last paragraph is phrased weird but i don’t know how to write it better so i hope it’s understandable.

That comic was patient zero in "oh my god other people see it too" for so many of us, I think. And yeah like you said it sticks very close to what happened taking into account tone of voice and everything. Adaptations of that sequence are like an almost surefire test to figure out what someone's interpretation of FH's relationship is and I think that's wonderful.

Big agree on the ranchers lore and I would argue Pearl's POV also has a similar effect where it forces you to acknowledge Scott not being the best ever. Funnily enough I watched the ranchers pov before the FH pov and didn't really see any of the post-FH horrors until I watched FH. I just kind of assumed when people said Tango was the first person who treated Jimmy as an equal they were putting "and Scott too but that was a season ago" in footnotes. But no they meant full-time and they'd be right lmao

My favourite example of Jimmy expecting the worst is this interaction he has with Bdubs where he essentially gets a bucket for free when the ranchers were struggling for iron and tells him to not tell Tango because he's scared he'll get yelled at. Like there is literally nothing Jimmy has done here that would be remotely considered reasonable to yell at him for but he's so afraid of having agency and making his own decisions at this point he just defaults to assuming his partner will be upset at him. (FYI I think this is more a result of how everyone treats him - Southlanders certainly did not help - but getting mad at Jimmy for doing literally anything except sit still was something Scott was especially privy to)

Don't worry I think your point was clear enough on that last paragraph, I kind of roll my eyes when people try to use distance as an excuse to justify why some dark topics are okay but others aren't, but I can't talk too much about this because I find it annoying and will probably end up saying something that feels mean lol.

Redirecting this once again to Bree's post about how hostile the language people use when talking about this discourse is to abuse victims e.g. "why can't you be NORMAL and write about NORMAL relationships and let them be NORMAL" which I think partially comes as a direct result of refusing to engage in abuse storylines and thus not being sympathetic to these portrayals or the people who write them.

And aside from that it's not even like. abuse and toxic relationships themselves are the issue sometimes. Obviously generalizing here a bit but I see a lot of the same people who find toxic fh "gross" gas up interpretations where Jimmy cheats on Scott or otherwise treats Scott horribly. Not to mention Pearl and her storyline getting turned into "girl who is mad gay man won't date her".

It just uh. sometimes feels as though the "grossness" is coming from a need to defend Scott's honour than a need to disengage with these themes entirely, which rubs me the wrong way.

(not to mention that I do think calling abuse storylines "gross" in of itself might have some unfun implications attached but I've said enough)

[leatherface-kisser]

Can I request headcanons for Drayton, nubbins, chop top, and Bubba with a little sister around 7 years old. I like to imagine she's the exact opposite of them and is very sweet and innocent

Absolutely! Thank you for your request! These were so precious to think about. I did go a little dark in the very end, but there's nothing graphic, it's only implied. Hope that's okay!

Warnings : Murder and Cannibalism (implied)

🧸The Sawyers with a young sister🌷

Now let me make something clear beforehand… good luck trying to stay 100% innocent as a child while growing up with the Sawyers. The house is FILLED TO THE BRIM with bones and other human parts. Leatherface is wearing masks made out of human faces. I mean, there are literal murders taking place within the house! And the cannibalism obviously! I’m not saying it would be impossible for a kid to be innocent and sweet in this family, don’t get me wrong. However, I think the innocence would be more so because the child is oblivious to the fact that all of this isn’t normal.

With that being said! With such a young little sister around, the older Sawyer brothers would be viciously protective of her. You know how big brothers get with their baby sisters. No intruder could even manage to get close to the property without rapidly being dealt with. They’re more territorial than ever. No one will ever hurt their little sister. If it happens, it will be over their dead, cold body.

With Drayton at the gas station and the twins wandering around god knows where most of the time, the little girl spends most of her days with Bubba and Grandpa. Grandpa, as much as she loves him, isn’t exactly the most fun to hang out with though… So she and Bubba are the closest and get along very well. Bubba is a bit relieved not to be the baby of the family anymore and he feels a bit more capable and confident due to taking care of her during the day. When he’s not busy with chores, he plays with her. They’re often playing pretend with tea parties, playing dress up… and Bubba is genuinely having a blast each time.

Imagine Bubba letting his little sister do his masks' hair, with little ribbons everywhere and everything. Picture his pretty woman mask with ponytails or braids decorated with flowers, adorable. He sits on the ground and patiently lets her have fun, he himself is enjoying the little makeovers for sure. He only intervenes when she’s being too rough on the mask or when she needs help.

There’s also lots of Tag you’re it and Hide and Seek. Can you imagine how cute that would be? There’s this giant who's poorly hidden in a corner of the house or behind a tree, oblivious to the fact his round belly is sticking out of the hiding spot. And his baby sister creeps closer and closer until she jumps out at him with a loud “BOO!”. Bubba jumps with a startled yelp, causing the little girl to giggle with glee.

The two of them are very close and it’s honestly super sweet. I have a feeling Bubba would get along well with children. They share pinky promises, little secrets and such together. Bubba often carries his sister around like a bag of potatoes much to her absolute joy and delight. She loves nothing more than when her strong brother lifts her off the ground with no effort. Leatherface might be terrifying to others, but to his sister, he’s the strongest, kindest, safest person around!

Everyone is very, very fond of their sweet sister. And Grandpa also appreciates his granddaughter of course. Sometimes, she settles near him and rambles on and on about various things. You know that thing kids do, talking about mostly nonsensical things. Grandpa isn’t completely there, but he seems to enjoy her presence. The girl also probably likes to “gossip” with grandpa, like how Drayton says a lot of bad words, how Chop Top kinda stinks sometimes and how Nubbins blew raspberries at her the other day (How rude!). She does this mostly because Grandpa never scolds her for gossiping. He never really answers, but she still loves him.

The girl will be wearing her brothers’ old clothes from when they were children. Almost all of them are patched up, some of them are a little baggy, but they do the job just fine! She may have one cute dress to wear for special occasions, but otherwise, she wears the clothes that have been passed onto her. 

Sometimes, when a specific piece of clothing reminds him of something, Drayton often rambles to her about an anecdote from when he raised his little brothers. “Oh I remember patching up that one! Nubbins got stuck in that tree over there, it took an hour to get him down! The shirt got all messed up… Fucken nitwit… At least yer sweet hm? You don’t get into trouble like that. Yer a good girl.” *head pats*

Oh yeah, Drayton swears a LOT. He would attempt to watch his mouth around his impressionable sister, but he quite often slips up. Bad habit he inherited from Grandpa. Chop Top also swears like a sailor, but doesn’t even attempt to limit himself. He would probably even go as far as to teach his sister bad words just to piss Drayton off. Nubbins only swears occasionally, his language is surprisingly clean compared to the other two.

Speaking of Nubbins, he makes a ton of little toys and trinkets for his little sister! They’re pretty… Morbid. But still! They’re made with care and love, that’s what matters, and the kid most probably loves them. I can imagine Nubbins crafting dolls out of taxidermied small animals, and plenty of other stuff. His artistic tendencies and imagination comes in very handy! He takes so many pictures of her also. Just... so many. This kid has seen the flash of the camera hundreds of times by now.

Chop Top listens to music with her. He's that cool brother who visited the world and has a ton of stories to tell about his time in Nam Land. And he knows a lot of songs! So smart! The young girl listens to him talk with music in the background. She's having a bit of a hard time keeping up with the narration, but it sounds very interesting and cool nonetheless!

Bubba also makes stuff for his little sister! He knows how to sew quite well and will spend a lot of time adjusting his sister’s clothes so that they fit her a little better. He might also use scraps of clothing from previous victims to patch them up, or even decorate them! The sawing looks rough, but it’s sturdy.

Bubba gave the little girl his old Teddy Bear one night when she came into his bedroom after she had a nightmare. Big bro Bubba is very strong, he can protect her from any mean intruder! In an attempt to comfort her, he dug into his closet and retrieved the dusty plushie from the back. Teddy could protect her! He had protected Bubba from nightmares just fine when he was her age! Now that he doesn’t need Teddy anymore, she can have it. A pretty bow was added on the bear later on. She carries the thing everywhere with her. Teddy has his own spot at the dinner table.

Almost all of her toys are either passed onto her, or were crafted by one of the brothers. Brand new toys are a rarity and only reserved for special occasions, the Sawyers can’t afford much when it comes to these things. No worries though, the toys already available to her should be plenty enough! I imagine the kid would have a blast playing in the bone room. You know, the one where Pam stumbles upon in the movie. Picture this kid playing with different skulls, making them talk and playing out little adventures, or her just having fun with the feathers on the ground. Heck, just going outside is the best activity ever for the girl! There’s a big property to explore, flowers to pick up, bugs to capture and chickens to pet!

However, it’s always a bit scary for her when there’s intruders or victims around. There’s a lot of screaming and chaos, and Bubba looks very scared too. The girl is a bit frightened each time, but she feels reassured when her big brothers laugh in these moments. They’re laughing, so everything’s okay right? Plus, the screaming always eventually stops, they’re all strong enough to protect her, especially Bubba. Also, when there’s a guest, that means the fridge is getting restocked, which means more food on the table! So it’s okay. The girl does not know any better, this is just life to her. Family is good, family is safe, family is everything.

Thank you for reading! 🌼🧡