#nbc rise gifs

[idontplaytrack]

No words

Lilette Suarez x fem! reader

Warnings: MDNI, smut. Coarse language, fluffy ending?

Stressed? No problem. All you needed was Lilette

Lilette gets up early every morning, sometimes even before the sun rises. Most of the time, she gets back to sleep since, well, it was too early to be up. Other times, she just gets her day started already. Anyway, today, your girlfriend was up at the crack of dawn. Literally. The sun had just risen when she woke up while you were still fast asleep having worked a shift that ended after midnight. The weeks been stressful with multiple consecutive working days and late night shifts, you were simply down on your luck. But, you were glad you had the next couple days off to let go of the stresses of the week while awaiting your new roster to get sent to your work chat.

Your stress levels had you wanting some form of relief but you never had the energy to initiate anything so you didn’t. You could only focus on getting through your shifts and getting home— you’ve been exhausted. But that didn’t mean that your mind didn’t know what you wanted and wandered in your sleep.

Soon, you’d been drifting in and out of sleep, not wanting to get out of bed just yet. But what made you focus was the feeling of Lilette’s palm trailing up your thigh and squeezing it. If you weren’t awake before, you definitely were now. Just that your eyes were still closed. You flinched when she did so, which let her know they you were awake. Being a deep sleeper, she knew for a fact that you wouldn’t have flinched if you were asleep. “Are you awake, baby?” Lilette asks in a hum, her hand still caressing your skin.

You bit back a whine that was caught in your throat, taking in a deep breath. She chuckles to herself, “Did you think I wouldn’t hear you?”

You shook your head though, “No.” She started going closer and closer to the space between your thighs. Your leg jerked back as if on reflex, she held on to your inner thigh now. “‘m sleepy.” You muttered.

“Mm, I could still help you out though, if you want me to.”

You were nodding right away, making her very happy. You feel her hand moving to the space between your legs, fingertips ghosting the area of your clit over the fabric of your shorts and underwear. Lilette was swiftly removing those two pieces of fabric from your body, which shocked you seeing as she wasn’t typically one to move this fast. But, given how wound up you got from your dream alone, it seemed as though she was doing exactly what you needed. You barely even needed to lift your hips off the bed for Lilette to remove those, she was as eager as you were.

You didn’t exactly show how badly you needed her since you were more concerned about getting some more sleep. But as long as you’d given her the permission, she was glad to make you feel good. You feel some movement, then Lilette was sat beside you, right by your legs while her fingers toyed with your clit to build up the arousal. She’s returned to her usual habits now when it came to pleasuring you, though you didn’t know why. But you weren’t going to complain, because no matter what, it was working. Your mind was drifting away by the second.

Her fingertips barely touched your clit and you seethed, writhing in the seats. Her grip on your thigh tightens. “So sensitive already…poor thing. So pent up?” Lilette asks, her voice barely above a whisper. A whine falls from your lips, your eyes still closed, wanting her to do the work while you relaxed. You feel her fingers gliding up and down your slit, making you bite your lip to muffle the noises beginning to come out of your mouth without much effort at all. She laughs, face now dangerously close to your cunt. Lilette was leaning over, fingers beginning to push into you, her lips wrapping around the hood of your clit simultaneously sending a shock down your spine, causing your back to arch just ever so slightly.

“Woah, pretty girl. So eager, hm?” She asks sweetly, as if her pace wasn’t picking up and fucking you senseless.

“…fuck.” You swallowed thickly, breathing growing heavier and heavier the more you felt her against you, savouring every little bit of you.

“You could’ve just told me earlier and I would’ve helped you take the edge off.” She says, free hand groping your ass while her tongue keeps lapping you up. “You didn’t have to suffer, y’know? Going through shift after shift, feeling so frustrated.”

Your breath hitches, a cry settles in your throat, getting swallowed by you. The pleasure grows steadily, causing you to grip at the sheets beneath yourself. Lilette slows down, knowing that you were getting closer to your climax. You groaned in resistance, breath coming out in hurried pants as your hand finally found her head and tangled your hand in her hair. “Lil, I need more, I need more, please I’m so close, baby.” You pleaded, head spinning like crazy from how good it felt. It’s been weeks. You were desperate for more stimulation.

You thought she simply didn’t want to give you more, you thought she didn’t want to go faster. But hey, now, she was sucking at the swollen bundle of nerves. You didn’t anticipate it and cried out, making her chuckle. This could be working better than what she was doing before.

No words came out of your mouth at this point, just noises, and heavy breathing that was in all honesty driving Lilette a tad bit crazy too. They went in sync with her ministrations, a steady flow and melody, like music to her ears, motivating her to push you over the edge just like you wanted so much. That’s all you wanted, to feel good, to feel better. The relief. Sweet, sweet relief of all the stress and tension.

“Let me hear you, baby.” She asks while ramming into your g-spot, poking at it repeatedly. A guttural moan erupts from your throat, hitting her ears. Lilette grins, “Good girl~ you’re so close aren’t you, baby?”

You nodded sleepily, hands currently grabbing either side of your pillow as you squirmed. Lilette squeezes your thigh and you knew you had to stay still, she had to push you over the edge. And she wasn’t going to do it if you kept moving about.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” A string of obscenities fall from your lips like a chant, “Shit, Lilette— l—”

She hums, almost sounding…amused. “Who gets to fuck this pretty pussy of yours? Hm?” Her question made your lips tremble as you licked them, trying to fight the urge to let go.

Lilette laughs lowly, “Can’t talk? Aw.”

With one final shove of her two fingers, “Fuck!” You yelled, eyes snapping open when you feel yourself clenching rapidly around her, whining as tears pricked at your eyes. “Fuck~”

Hearing that, it was like a reflex and Lilette slows down gradually to a halt to allow you to find your breath. When you finally did, she began to clean you up gently, not wanting to make you uncomfortable since you were easily drifting back to sleep now. A few minutes later, she was felt pressed up against you, arms around your tired body— thanks to her, this morning. Naturally, you snuggled closer, wanting comfort from your girl.

“Feel better?”

“Mhm.” You mumbled unclearly, beginning to succumb to the sleepiness post-climax.

“Glad you do, sweet girl.” Lilette smiles, relieved. Giving you a tender kiss on your shoulder, she bites back some words, wanting to tell you to let her know what was bothering you next time in order to avoid you being so upset and frustrated. She didn’t, though knowing that there would be a better time for that conversation. You didn’t need that right now, you needed rest. Besides, the week was over and done with so it was all the more important to her that she wasn’t the one making you think about all of that chaos again. She knew it all too well to be putting you through the unnecessary stress.

Of course, she wouldn’t mind doing this all over again if it meant that you were happier after. She adored seeing and hearing you all blissed out, it made her happy that she could do that to you. Or for you, right?

“I’m so proud of you, baby.” She said softly, “You’re always doing your best. But you need to remember to take care of yourself.” To which you murmured incoherently, making her chuckle. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

🏷️Tag list:

@ashecampos @auliisflower @cheesysoup-arlo @frogs00 @ludoesartandstuff @pda128

💭A/N: It’s a little short but I finally got the motivation to write a new one 🥲 hope you enjoyed

[rocktheholygrail]

The Silence of the Lambs (1991) Hannibal Rising (2007) Hannibal (2013-2015)

[sheireen]

Dear followers, please could you vote for

Gossip Girl - Aki and Max

Rise - Simon and Jeremy

Prisma - Andrea and Daniele

THANK YOU! Just so it's not my one vote only 😅

Just five days to vote!

hosting the best gay tv ships of all time awards on twitter if anyone wants to vote hello https://forms.gle/bKEJKXVtiSwEzJU77

[cece693]

Could I request some Hannigram for a reader who operates on a backwards schedule? Like eating breakfast at 9pm and dinner at 7am.

Anytime they’re seen during the daytime they just look exhausted, lol

My Morning vs. Your Night

pairing: hannigram x gender neutral reader tags: hannigram are worried, your job is vague so it's up to your interpretation, you look dead and are exhausted, caring hannigram

You didn’t mind the hours at first. Working through the night suited your quiet nature, and the city seemed more peaceful under fluorescent lights and moonlit streets. You liked the dark, the hush it carried, and the way no one needed anything from you except your job’s unrelenting demands. But even you had to admit it was taking a toll.

You could feel your body fraying at the edges. Nights had become days—your sun rose while others slept, and your “good morning” was usually a mumbled greeting at 7 p.m. Then, when the world was waking up, you were crawling under the blankets.

Will was the first to notice the strain. He always noticed things—something about the way your eyes lost their usual spark, the way your head would loll forward in the middle of conversation. He’d be sitting at the kitchen table, feeding the dogs in the early morning, while you stumbled into the house just before dawn. His brows would crease in that concerned way, the same gentle worry he wore when coaxing stray animals to trust him.

Hannibal, in contrast, observed you more subtly. He measured the dark circles under your eyes, the slump in your posture. He noted the times you arrived too late or too early for a meal, rummaging for breakfast at nine in the evening. He witnessed how exhaustion made you forget to eat proper dinners, your last substantial meal too many hours in the past. Their worry was shared—spoken in Will’s gentle voice and in Hannibal’s carefully worded suggestions.

Hannibal was a blur of precision as he artfully arranged your plate—a culinary masterpiece that qualified as breakfast by your schedule. Hash browns with a fried egg, a delicate drizzle of sauce that smelled faintly of herbs. He placed the plate in front of you, leaning in with an elegant posture. “You must eat,” he said softly, voice like silk on porcelain. “Your body needs care even if your hours are reversed.”

You tried to give him a small smile of gratitude, but your eyes slid closed for just a moment of rest. It felt like even blinking took more energy than you had. “I am eating,” you replied, forcing cheer into your tone. You sank your fork into the food, and as always, it was divine. This didn’t escape your notice, but your taste buds and Hannibal’s cooking had begun to take a backseat to pure fatigue.

Will hovered by your side. He still wore a sweater with a few dog hairs clinging to the sleeves, and the usual shadows of his own weariness had nothing on the purple bruises beneath your eyes. “I’m worried about you,” he said, gently patting your shoulder. “This isn’t healthy. You’re coming home in the morning and not even sleeping properly. You hardly rest before you go back out again.”

Your gaze shifted to him, and your heart clenched at the genuine concern carved into his expression. “It’s just the nature of the work,” you said quietly. “I can’t exactly turn it down. They need me.” Will exhaled, and Hannibal placed a hand on Will’s shoulder as if reminding him to tread carefully.

A week later, the inevitable crash came. Maybe it was a double shift that turned into a triple. Maybe it was the pounding headache that refused to relent. You wound up driving home while the sun was already high in the sky—past 7 a.m., well into your typical “dinnertime,” but you’d missed all your usual signals.

You stumbled into the house, tears of frustration threatening to fall. You kicked off your shoes, ignoring the annoyed whine of your tired muscles, and almost collapsed in the foyer.

Will was there in an instant, arms catching you around the waist. “Whoa, easy,” he said, voice thick with concern. “Let me help you—just breathe.”

Hannibal appeared like a shadow, as swift as a heartbeat, pressing a gentle hand to your forehead. You saw the flicker of alarm in his eyes. You must have looked truly terrible. Your eyelids fluttered, the world turning blurry. “I’m so tired,” you mumbled, as if your exhaustion was something new and shocking.

Will and Hannibal exchanged a look above your hunched form, and Will gently scooped you into his arms, carrying you to the couch. You sank into it like a wilted flower. Before you could register it, Hannibal disappeared into the kitchen, returning moments later with a glass of water. No one spoke until you took a few sips, water dribbling down your chin. Your hands shook so hard it was difficult to hold the glass.

Then Hannibal, with a low, steady voice, said, “We can’t watch you do this to yourself any longer.”

Will nodded. “We talked about it and we think you should quit this job. Please. For your own sake.”

It wasn’t an easy decision. You’d put so much into this job. But you remembered all those times you nearly passed out at your desk, times you neglected meals, the nights you promised Will you’d be home by dawn only to arrive in the bright glare of midday. So you stood in your supervisor’s office the next afternoon (evening, by your internal clock) and handed over your resignation. A wave of conflicting emotions washed over you—fear, relief, regret, and anticipation. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen a proper sunrise while wide awake.

Stepping out of that building for the last time, you felt lighter. Your phone buzzed with a waiting text from Will:

We’re so proud of you. Come home safe.

It took a while to reset your routine. At first, you still found yourself awake at bizarre hours—your stomach growling at midnight, craving what it had learned to call breakfast. But now, when you emerged from the bedroom at odd times, you were greeted by Will in the living room, dozing lightly, as though waiting for you. Hannibal often had a small snack prepared, an elegant amuse-bouche to tide you over while your body adjusted.

Some nights, Hannibal would read aloud from a book of poetry while you rested your head in Will’s lap, focusing on the cadence of Hannibal’s voice to soothe your restless mind. Will’s fingers combed absently through your hair, grounding you. Slowly, you found yourself drifting off earlier and waking closer to what most people called “morning.” You’d have breakfast around nine—actual nine in the morning. Will smiled at you over a cup of coffee, and Hannibal offered you a plate of fresh fruit and delicate pastries.

You couldn’t remember the last time you had breakfast with both Will and Hannibal in natural morning light. It felt surreal, a luxury you hadn’t realized you’d been missing for so long. The kitchen was bathed in a gentle glow from the rising sun, and for once, you didn’t have to squint against it, half-conscious from a grueling shift.

“How do you feel?” Will asked, sliding you a cup of tea.

You paused, steam rising into your face, the warmth of the mug cupped in your hands. “I feel…rested.” The word sounded alien, but it made you laugh a little. “I forgot what that was like.”

Hannibal, perched elegantly across from you, inclined his head. “It is good to see color in your cheeks again. You have a natural glow this morning.”

Will’s foot nudged yours under the table, an affectionate gesture. “Not that you aren't handsome/beautiful, of course,” he teased in his soft, playful way, “but you did look like a ghost for a while there.”

A shy laugh escaped you, and you reached across to squeeze his hand briefly. “It’s strange, but i’m glad I quit.”

“Good,” Hannibal responded, his smile as subtle as ever. “Because your well-being is paramount. To both of us.” A comfortable silence settled among the three of you. It was only broken by the quiet clink of silverware on plates and the soft hum of the dogs in the next room. You took in the moment, letting your shoulders relax in a way they hadn’t in ages. The day stretched ahead of you—not night, not the sleepless hours, but a real day full of possibilities and the promise of healthy routines. Will winked at you before biting into a piece of toast, and Hannibal sipped his coffee with measured elegance.

[grahamdolce]

Hannibal Rising | 3.06 Dolce | 3.07 Digestivo

[bobowbeau]

🩸 🩸 🩸

[cannibalismposting]

Mads Mikkelsen and Kissing everyone, no matter the gender

[honeygrahambitch]

So now that I am reading Hannibal Rising I would like to share with you my discoveries. And this is a very interesting one.

This line appears in the book as well and it immediately sent me to this scene.

However, the line is said by someone else. Uncle Roberto and Lady Murasaki bring Hannibal to a psychiatrist to check him. He was mute at that time and heavily traumatized and wounded since his time in the russian orphanage and before.

The psychiatrist says exactly what Will says but in a quite different context. He explains that Hannibal's brain hemispheres function independently(*for the average human, the hemispheres communicate, that's why for example you wouldn't be able to draw a circle with your right hand and a square with your left hand at the same time).

So the doctor explains that that's the reason why Hannibal follows several trains of thought at once (...) and one of the trains always for his own amusement.

It's also interesting to note that the doctor says the this could have been the outcome of head trauma. We know Grutas had hit him badly to let go of Mischa. And we also know the monitors at the orphanage loved to beat him because he was mute and could not tell anyone.

[queerquaintrelle]

For those of us with taste who appreciate women…

Tagging: @malicious-compliance-esq, @dhavernasty, @spellbound-multi, @musicboxmemories, @hannibalmetaresource,, @deerabigailhobbs & @hannibelles ❤️

Ft this Gif for funsies, snooze on the bicon lady you lose @ Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter (bisexual - Will Graham, and pansexual - Lecter), bi-male lean, demisexual Abigail Hobbs is real to me but we digress.

The only ladies I am okay with Hannibal Lecter kissing are Clarice Starling and Bedelia and that’s cause they can play and beat him at his own games. It’s canon Thomas Harris said so.

Will can kiss whoever he wants, he’s just enough of a pathetic wet dog bisexual loser (canon) to make him tolerable, otherwise I would punch him for objectifying Abigail.

[multifandom--mess]

hannibal x things to do by alex g

[cece693]

Devotion in the Ashes

pairing: hannibal lecter x gender neutral reader tags: reader knew hannibal when they were kids, mentions of extreme devotion and love, human hannibal, no specific time line, child-adulthood

You first met Hannibal Lecter on a summer afternoon in 1939, when the world outside the Lecter estate still felt safe. Your families were neighbors—your father had been a friend of Count Lecter, and your mothers often hosted tea in the estate’s sunroom. You were hardly more than a child, but so were Hannibal and his little sister, Mischa. Back then, Hannibal had been a quiet boy with gentle eyes and a clever mind that never stopped whirring behind his stillness. Mischa was the opposite—loud giggles, constant questions, and a warmth that always drew you in.

But war doesn’t spare childhood innocence for long. Lithuania became a battleground, and your carefree days grew scarce. Meals shrank to rationed scraps. The hush of nighttime was shattered by planes overhead, rumors of soldiers roaming the forests. You, Hannibal, and Mischa sought refuge in the corners of the Lecter property, whispering stories to distract yourselves from the thunder of artillery not too far away.

Snow covered the Lithuanian countryside in a harsh white sheet the winter that changed everything. The Lecters’ castle was overrun by desperate, violent men—soldiers or scavengers, it hardly mattered. In those terrifying nights, you recall Hannibal shielding Mischa behind him, urging her to be quiet, his heart pounding against your shoulder as the three of you huddled together in the darkest part of the cellar.

When Mischa was taken, a piece of Hannibal died. You were there, but powerless. The soldiers overpowered you, shoved you aside, and locked you away. You lived, but you’d never forget the gnawing guilt of surviving while Mischa did not. When Hannibal emerged from that carnage, silent and seething, his small body trembling, you tried to hold him. He let you, though you realized later that in those seconds, he had receded into himself, spirit fractured by horror.

In time, you managed to slip away from the carnage. Your family left. He disappeared. Letters undelivered, calls unanswered. You carried the memory of Hannibal Lecter as something half-lost and half-stolen, sure that you would never see him again.

Your parents traveled west, seeking safety. Eventually, with the war’s end in sight, you found a semblance of normalcy, though a heavy grief remained. You couldn’t help but think of Hannibal in quiet moments—his last expression, the heartbreak etched into his features, and how tightly his cold hand had clutched yours in the last moments before you were separated.

But fate is not so easily denied. After years of searching, you discovered that he had been relocated to France, eventually living under the care of a relative. You learned he was studying medicine. The day you knocked on his door in Paris, your heart rattled in your chest, uncertain if he’d welcome you or remain a ghost from a painful past.

He opened the door, and for a long moment, you both simply stared. He was older—taller, leaner, the angles of his face refined into a striking elegance. But in his dark eyes, you saw the same swirling intensity, the same quiet gravity that had once made you feel safe and uneasy all at once.

“Hannibal,” you breathed. His gaze flickered over you—shock, relief, a glimmer of something else you couldn’t yet name. He stepped aside to let you in, and when the door clicked shut behind you, the years between you collapsed.

In the weeks and months that followed, it became clear Hannibal had changed. Shadows lingered in him, always on the edge of his features. His politeness was unwavering, his intellect sharper than ever. But behind the measured courtesy was a sea of obsessions and unspoken longing. You were relieved he trusted you—he wanted your company, perhaps more than he wanted anyone else’s. But you also sensed that he guarded something deep, a coiled darkness born from the tragedy that stole Mischa away.

He hardly spoke of his sister; you knew better than to press. But when nightmares surfaced—ragged breathing in the middle of the night—you were the only one he allowed near. You, the one from his childhood, the only one who knew him before and after.

Still, it was not merely comfort in your presence that Hannibal sought. There was a fervor, a devotion in the way he watched you. If you left his side, even for a moment, you felt his gaze follow you across the room. When you returned, he would exhale, tension evaporating. Like a priest at a forbidden altar, he worshipped you with quiet but fierce concentration. You were his anchor, the only living vestige of innocence and warmth he had left.

On Hannibal’s eighteenth birthday, you found him in an empty lecture hall—classes over, the last echoes of chatter dying out in the corridor. He sat at one of the rows near the front, eyes drifting to a window where sunlight slanted in, dust motes swirling in gold.

You set a small package on the desk in front of him: a fountain pen you had found in an antique shop, the barrel engraved with the Lecter coat of arms. He said nothing, simply clicked it open and tested its weight in his hand. Then, in a voice nearly too soft to hear, he said, “Thank you.”

You couldn’t guess then how your simple gift would stir such fierce emotion in him. But when he looked up, you saw something raw—relief, gratitude, and something else quietly smoldering behind his eyes.

“Hannibal…?”

He rose and stepped closer, so close you felt his breath. He swallowed as though preparing to speak, but no words came. Instead, he reached out, fingertips brushing your chin. You weren’t sure who leaned in first, but in seconds his lips pressed to yours—hesitant, searching. You tasted the trembling in him, felt the suppressed quake of desire. This was not the polite veneer; this was Hannibal stripped bare, desperate, clinging to a person he worshipped as his anchor against the world.

When you broke apart for air, you found your voice, shaky though it was. “Hannibal, I—”

He silenced you with a gentle press of his palm on your shoulder. You felt him exhale against your mouth, tension unwinding from his body. As he inclined his head—cheeks flushed, eyes still cast downward—you saw the vulnerability that had burrowed into him since childhood. In this moment, he didn’t wear the mask of unflappable charm; he gave you his broken pieces, trusting you to hold them gently.

From that day forward, Hannibal’s devotion only grew. It was in the quiet glances he stole when he thought you weren’t looking, the way he would hover close if anyone else tried to pull you into conversation. He wanted you entirely, as if the rest of the world was an unwelcome intrusion upon your shared space. He was fiercely protective, sometimes frightening in his intensity. When you touched him—fingers brushing his hair, your arms encircling his waist—he leaned into your every caress like a worshipper falling to his knees before a beloved deity.

But there was also the side of him that unfurled only in private. His breath catching when you took the lead, when you slipped a hand beneath the collar of his shirt and felt his heart pounding. He yielded to you, that calculating composure dissolving whenever you showed him softness. And the more he surrendered, the more you realized that Hannibal—so guarded, so controlled—desired nothing more than to be laid bare beneath the person who truly saw him.

Moments of intimacy brought him solace unlike any other. He would cling to you, voice trembling as he murmured in your ear: confessions of guilt over Mischa, the horror of what he had endured, the nightmares he couldn’t banish. He carried scars from that winter—the memory of losing her, of seeing something unthinkable. Yet with you, he trusted himself to unravel, giving you the only piece of him that was still genuinely, irrevocably human.

There came a night when you found Hannibal pacing in his room, the shutters drawn. Outside, the Parisian sky was a wash of moonlit blue. Inside, he looked ready to burst from the tension coiling in him. When you called his name, he turned with haunted eyes, as if the ghosts of those days in Lithuania hovered just outside his awareness.

He took a slow, unsteady breath. “I want only you,” he whispered, voice shaky with reverence. “I’ve always wanted only you.”

You stepped forward, cradling his face. “Hannibal, you have me.” He pressed his forehead against yours. A question trembled on his lips, but you understood before he spoke. With careful hands, you guided him to sit, letting him settle into your embrace. He yielded, fragile beneath your touch, eyes shining with unshed tears of relief.

When your mouths met again, there was nothing left of the boy who once hid behind stoicism. Instead, you felt every ounce of his need for you—his body, mind, and spirit clinging to the one person he believed could save him. In that hush of night, you made a silent promise: you would never let him stand alone against the ghosts of his past.

Hannibal kissed you back with a desperation that bordered on reverence. He was lost and found in the same breath, his entire being caught in the space between your heartbeats. As your closeness deepened, he pressed himself to you with complete surrender. This was the Hannibal Lecter no one else would ever see—vulnerable, trusting, and utterly devoted. He would let the whole world burn if it meant keeping you by his side.

In the years to come, Hannibal would chase greatness. Medicine, surgery, the refined arts. He would step into a realm of sophistication and hidden darkness. And yet, there was always you—a single constant in his fractured life. The tenderness he showed you in private belied the mask he wore in public. You were his sole confidant and temptation, the promise of genuine warmth he couldn’t find elsewhere.

At times, you would see flickers of cruelty, or hints of the shadow that lurked behind his calm veneer. You suspected he had become capable of unimaginable acts. But you also felt the ferocity of his attachment. Whenever your eyes met, you witnessed the boy from the war-torn estate, the boy who held your hand through nightmares and pressed trembling kisses to your lips as if you were his salvation.

You were the tether binding Hannibal Lecter to the last scrap of his humanity. And in turn, he was yours—devoted, jealous, and consumed by a love that had been forged in the fires of war and tragedy. No matter how many masks he wore to the outside world, he revealed the real man only to you: the one who knelt at your altar, worshipping you as the lone guiding star in a life overshadowed by darkness.

He would never let you go. And for reasons beyond simple logic or morality, you found yourself choosing to stay, bound to Hannibal Lecter by a love deeper and more consuming than either of you had ever thought possible. Together, you carried the memory of Mischa—the sweetness she represented—and refused to let that memory die. In his arms, you found the broken boy who needed your touch, your warmth. And in your presence, he found something more than hunger or vengeance: he found devotion.

[ourdesignm]

Pokémon headcanons because I’m currently watching Pokémon Horizons.

Hannibal:

Mainly Psychic + Pokémon who can do psychic moves + elegant types. All of them are high-leveled, though he’s never sought any badges or challenges. He’s more into contests.

[zee-rambles]

Lets. D0. This.

(Please note: Post will be updated as I find more resources and think of more strategies)

(Please do not re-use gif without permission…unless it’s to save Rise…)

Mutant May

YOU can watch Season 1 and Season 2 of RISE right HERE!

So I’ve seen a a lot of people still wondering if Rise of the TMNT can be saved.

There’s is a lot of hope, especially with the boom of fans joining the fandom after the movie dropped last year, people making more art on tumblr, twitter, tik tok, and so on. But also a a lot of doubt, especially after JJ Conway’s post on twitter.

BUT…I still think there is a chance…a GOOD chance. WITH ORIGINAL CAST AND CREW! Why?

We live in the internet. Information is more then easy to get out now thanks to social media. There is all kinds of ways to get the word out to people. Let’s abuse it. 😎

Fans have brought back shows before.

We need a MAJOR push through social media, more fans, more art, it’s up to us…and I think we can do it!

Fans convinced Netflix to bring Sense8 back for a finale

Fans convinced fox to bring back “Futurama” after it was cancelled in 1999.

Hey Arnold got the jungle movie thirteen years after the show was cancelled

Animaniacs got a 3 season revival 22 years after it stopped airing.

Brooklyn 99 was cancelled in 2018, and the fans convinced NBC to pick up the series.

Arrested Development was canceled after 3 seasons, but AFTER it was cancelled, it grew an audience and they made it come back!

Fans saved the original Star Trek in the 60s with letters.

They did it. Why can’t we?

So what can we do?

Well…

1. PETITIONS TO SAVE RISE that we can all sign…

PETITION 1 (The strongest one, but the more petitions signed, the better!)

PETITION 2

PETITION 3

PETITION 4 (save the content that was cut/we missed)

PETITION 5! (Make an ROTTMNT season 3)

2. Pester Nickelodeon and Netflix on social media (THE BIG ONE Y’ALL, THIS IS THE MOST DIRECT AND IMPORTANT)

Be polite, be non-toxic (don’t be rude or mean, the boys would not want that, and the Nick/Netflix won’t listen), but be LOUD, PASSIONATE, AND ANNOYING! Ask for DVDs of the show/movie, and then BUY THOSE DVDs!

MAKE SURE TO ASK FOR THE FULL ORIGINAL CAST AND CREW TO COME BACK, INCLUDING ANDY SARIANO AND ANT WARD.

Sample DM/Letter (but try to come up with your own. Too many repeats and they will ignore it)

“Dear Nickelodeon/Netflix/Viacom, I can’t tell you how much Rise means to me, and I really love that you put the show on air. But it was not fair that the show was cancelled before it got the chance to reach the audience it deserved, only because of a few bad reviews and a lack of advertising. The show is great, there’s tons of fans, tons of art, and people, including me, want so much more! Please bring it back! We want the original crew to come, Flying Bark, for the show to get it’s full second season restored, and it’s five season run like it was originally intended. People hated the 2012 TMNT when it came out, but it got it’s chance and now there are people that love it. Why can’t Rise of the TMNT have the same? It’s clear that the creators love their work and there’s a growing fan base for it. Rise just came out at the wrong time, but it deserves it chance to shine.”

The more personal you made the letter, the more you say what Rise means to you, the better.

As for me? I’m sending them a picture of Pizza Pigeon with the #wewantmoreriseoftheTMNT and #saverottmnt

Request movies/seasons on Netflix.

Ask for Rise Season 2, another season, another movie. Just keep asking!

Nickelodeon’s facebook page (Look, I know that facebook is a relic at this point, but the more people go there and PESTER Nickelodeon, the better!)

Rise’s facebook page

Leave good reviews. Share. Leave TONS of comments

Nickelodeon’s instagram

Nickelodeon’s Twitter page (treat carefully, there be Musks out there…only use if you are over 18)

Nickelodeon’s TikTok

Niceklodeon’s letter inbox

Nickelodeon, 1515 Broadway, New York, NY 10036

Rugrats was brought back because fans bombarded Nickelodeon with letters saying they wanted it back. Might as well cover our bases. This one is a BIG DEAL!

Nickelodeon’s Corporate Number

1-212-846-2543 Call them! Annoy them! Ask how we can get their attention! Tell them why you love this show! Why it deserves to come back.

Contact Paramount

Paramounts Request form

Official Fan Page Rise’s Instagram

The more followers the better.

Netflix’s instagram

Netflix’s facebook

Netflix’s Twitter (Treat carefully. There be MUSKs out there…only use if you are over 18)

SPAM NICKELODEON’S EMAILS!

feedback@nick.com

contactus@nick.com

Letterbox@nick.co.uk

help@paramountplus.coM

If anyone has any more, any deeper more direct points of contact, or more ideas, please share!

3. Leave good reviews for Rise anywhere and raise awareness everywhere you can!

One of the key reasons Rise did not do too well because it was unfairly review bombed before people could give it a chance…so get out there on tik tok, IMDB, Rotten Tomatoes, and ESPECIALLY youtube.

Make reviews! Analysis! JOKES! Support other content creators! When the Rise Reanimated video comes out, share it like no tomorrow!

No one paid attention when How to Train Your Dragon came out, but word of mouth and people saying it was good, made it the success it was. Let’s repeat history!

Anytime there is NEW RISE CONTENT on Nickelodeon’s YouTube channel, watch it, share, spread it.

Share this post on social media, across various sites, use the information here to spread awareness about how people can help and what they can do. Be relentless! (Like Leo in Lair Games)

Ask influencers to review, react, and give RISE a chance without placing judgement.

4. Make. ART!

Draw, Write, TWEET, Make MERCH, Sell MERCH, Make Tik Toks, Videos on YouTube, posts on instagram, discord, what pad, demanding more Rise, spreading the word, and just showing how much you love this show! Not only will it attract attention, but it’s also good for all of us. There will be more Rise content either way.

Make sure to @ nickelodeon on ALL of your art! SPAM THEM! ANNOY THEM! DROWN THEM IN LOVE FOR THIS SHOW! Demand DVD’s and Blue rays of the SHOW AND THE MOVIE! It’s not fair that we can’t have access to it!

PLAY THIS GAME!

If you see official Rise MERCH in the while, buy it if you can! Also support as many rise content creators as you can. If you can’t draw? Write! If you can’t create! Like! Share! Comment! Support each other!

Rise April ART Challenge

Keep in mind…there WILL be pushback.

Companies as big as Nickelodeon and Viacom care about their bottom line: $$$…money. BUT pushback, whether they are taking down your videos on Tik Tok, striking artists on twitter, mean that they’re taking NOTICE. So don’t. Give. UP!

One last thing to remember: DO NOT harass fans for enjoying other versions of TMNT

Even though Rise is the first and only TMNT I have ever loved, I don’t believe in shaming other fans for looking forward to, or enjoying other TMNT series. Gatekeeping like that was what stopped Rise from (heh) Rising as high as it should have. All Rise fans are welcome, and all TMNT fans are welcome. Rise deserves to reach more fans, it deserves another season, and it does not need to knock down other TMNT series to do it. Show them your love and your need for more Rise, without making other TMNT fans feel unwelcome.

Share, spread the word, give it your best shot! A village can move MOUNTAINS! SO let’s do it.

So that in the near future…we can MAKE THIS JOKE!

[artsninspo]

COUNTERFEIT - four

⇽ part three

➨ rio's library - good girl nbc

「 ✦ full library & archive ✦ 」

🍒 pairing: Rio (Good Girls) X Faith (Original Character) All my characters are black women.

🍒 word count: ~1.8K

🍒 summary: Faith continues working at the bar with Diego, run-ins with Rio continue. Jason reveals the repercussions for his actions and Char reveals unsurprising feelings. Tensions rise at the end of the night when Rio reveals his disposition and intentions.

four - playing games

I’ve been making so much money over the past month. So much so that I can use tips to pay rent and still have cash leftover. Diego calls me in whenever Rio is out of town and it’s like old times - just us horsing around and having fun while getting shit done. He’s the reason I’m here we’re out of our fruit supply so i’m here to top up. You'd be surprised by how much  guys at the bar love themselves some lime wedges on their drinks and orange rinds in their old fashioneds. I’m in the grocery pick up line and I see Jason. He looks startled before he glares looking straight ahead.

 I’m fine if he is. 

Mom has finally accepted we’re over and Char is starting to as well. I use my phone to check out and then we’re standing next to each other, Jason and I.

“So you go from grabbing me to ignoring me?” I ask and his eyes shift to me before he turns. “Okay..” I trail not used to this level of weird behaviour.

“Guys we’re waiting outside of my house telling me about all I’d have to lose if it got out I was inappropriate with my ex. And to never speak to you again” he says.

“What guys?!” I ask.

“Big ones” he says and I remember the security took a picture of his license. 

Rio.

“You were pretty inappropriate” I admit and he swallows. “And you weren’t even willing to fight some big guys for me so I couldn’t have meant as much as you thought I did” I add getting my groceries.

“Faith” he calls.

“Listen to the big ones” I cut him off before loading up my car and leaving him where he stands.

…

D and I set up the bar for tonight.  There are cases of liquor to unload because we’re a dynamic duo and nothing lasts on the shelves. I ran through the supply by using the divisiveness of sports to my advantage. D and I became representatives of each team. For the love of pride and bragging rights we made the competition a variety of drinking games - we burned right through the reserves. The bar has been filling up so much D’s had to send people away and get security. I’m doing really well financially on my own for the first time in my life. It makes me feel closer to my father and uncle.  They lived and breathed their work and I feel similar about helping Diego with his bar and now having big cash deposits to show for it. Once we’re done with the set up I head to lunch to meet Char.

“You’re late” she notifies me.

“As usual” I remind her with a smile and she rolls her eyes.

“You missed dads party” she says, talking about our step father. 

“He’s not my dad. Ours is dead.” I remind her.

“Merrick has been our dad since we were 12” she says and I smile to keep myself from arguing with her.

“I’m gonna need a strong drink tonight” I mutter looking at the menu and she huffs.

“He put you through college” She starts, reminding me of Merrick’s good deeds.

“He’s not my dad and I don’t like politicians” I counter in defiance.

“You need to grow up,” she mutters.

“You need to stop thinking money is everything” I tell her. Her expression softens and she looks away being flirty. I frown, turn and see Rio. I can't hold my smile back as he smirks, nodding in my direction. 

“You’re a mess!”  I chide her.

“He’s handsome and understands classic style” she comments after having only seen him twice. I look at him over again before smiling amused at her. She really must be Merrick’s daughter because if she remembered anything about our father then she’d know Rio’s code isn’t the law. “He has good taste, both places we’ve seen him in have been upscale.” She adds, sounding like mom.

“So you think he’s a gentleman?” I ask.

“You say that like he isn’t” she raises a brow. I haven't told anyone about my run in with Jason and his allegations. Rio is the top culprit.

“I don’t know him. I’ve only seen him around a few times” I shrug, not wanting to overshare.

Char looks surprised. “Lately?”

“No” I admit.

“How do I look?” She whispers adjusting her tits in her shirt. I laugh

“Respectable” I remark just as I’m brought my favorite drink with extra cherries.

“Thank you,” I tell the server.

“What would you like? On the house?”  The server smiles asking Char.

“Chardonnay,” she says, trying to sound classy.

“Chardonnay because my name is Char” I mock when the server leaves and she flips me off.

“How does he remember Your favorite drink if you’ve met him twice?” she inquires.

“He’s attentive,” I shrug. “Also how hard is it to remember tequila soaked cherries. It's harder to remember Chardonnay” I joke and she looks puzzled.

“Shit” she panics and I laugh at her nativité.

“What does he do?” She asks.

“I’ve never asked” I tell her truthfully.

“You’ve never asked, he’s both of our type physically.” Char says growing suspicious of me.

“I never asked because occupation doesn’t impress me” I tell her and Rio comes over with her drink and a smile.

“Anything you want is on the house” he repeats.

“My sister Char” I introduce.

“Rio, nice to meet you.” he smiles and she shakes his hand with a sparkle in her eye. She totally buys the nice guy act which amuses me. Our introduction was much more … tense.

“So Rio, what do you do?” Char asks and I smile embarrassed at her lack of game.

“I work in entertainment, run a few bars and clubs, you know” he says.

“Well that’s great, I work in PR. In case you ever need anything” she smiles.

“Chars the best” I add as a wingwoman. Rio looks me over before smiling.

“Are you working with Diego tonight?” He asks.

“They don’t work together” Char interjects. “Faith is in interior design.” 

“I know she’s been working with Diego on the Bar’s design.” Rio says recovering from his fumble and perceptively fixing it with a believable lie to maintain my secret. “Who’s older?” Rio asks, changing the subject while looking between us.

“Char by eleven months” I respond assisting in the deception. No wonder he juggles two women and doesn't seem stressed.

“Well you’re welcome here anytime, beautiful women are good for business” he flirts making my sister blush as he leaves our table.

“Play a little hard to get” I whisper once he’s gone.

“He’s charming,” she swoons.

“He’s trouble” I tell her. “Probably fantasizing about having both of us at the same time” I tell her and she blanches.

“You’re sick!” She frowns, sounding like mom.

“Earth to Char” I roll my eyes. “He walks around buying drinks and giving away complimentary meals. We aren’t special and gorgeous women are everywhere. Believe me when I tell you he’s out here living great” I tell her and she fans me off.

…

Bars closing in five and Diego and I are doing a tiebreaker. The guys don’t know that our shots are water unlike theirs. Diego lets me win and my side roars. I jump around clumsily pretending to be more sloshed than I am and collect tips as the guys file out. Security turns off the open sign and starts closing the blinds.. Rio walks in from the back and pours from my bottle. He smells the liquid and smiles.

“Water” he says and I nod.

“Diego said it would be dangerous if we were too drunk,” I explain.

“Diego has some business to take care of, so I’ll drop you home” he says and I turn to D.

“D?” I ask to confirm.

“I’ll call you tomorrow, thanks Faith” he smiles, handing me my tips. 

“Okay” I nod, turning to look at Rio. I follow him out to his car. It’s a Benz truck and I’m surprised when he gets my door. I hop in and wait for him to start it up before setting the GPS.

“Why didn’t you tell your sister you work here?” He pries.

“Then she’ll tell my mom and my mom will ask why she paid for college for me to serve drinks” I tell him honestly.

“But your sister’s into me,” he smiles.

“Yeah, but you’d hurt her, and I’m crazy. If Diego tip-toes around you it’ll end badly for all of us if you make my sister cry.” I warn.

“Well then we should be alright” he mutters.

“Don’t lie and promise you won’t hurt her feelings” I tell him and he chuckles.

“Do you one better, she’s not the sister I’m into” he smirks.

“Lucky me” I smile.

“At least you’re smiling” he says while driving.

“That was smooth, the kind of thing I’d say” I admit and now he smiles.

“That’s how you got ole boy who was tweaking at the club?” Rio asks keeping his eyes on the road.

“You scared him by the way” I told him.

“If he isn’t willing to fight or take a couple hits for his girl you’re better without him” Rio says and it’s funny we’re on the same page.

“He’s a lover not a fighter, good man” I add.

“Good men don’t grab women when they’re trying to get away,” he says and I scoff. “And women don’t try to get away from me” he says before I can comment.

“I’ll hold you to it,” I respond.

“Never said I was a good man” he rasps, his honesty is refreshing. He is who he is and isn't running from it.

“Why were you such a jerk that first night?” I ask.

“I’m not good with strangers,” he admits.

“First lie” I comment and he looks surprised for a moment before looking amused.

“I don’t trust people I don’t know or like them.” he elaborates.

“Truth” I accept.

“So, how do I get to spend more time with you?”

“You don’t. My moms married to Merrick Chase” I tell him and I know the mayor's name rings bells. “He tries to play pops and digs into anyone Char or I see’s. I have reason to believe your personal life won’t pass the test.”

“Well, what’s another secret? I’m not asking you to go steady” he says and my brain must be broken because it is exciting and not off putting.

“You're bad news” I smile looking at him.

“And a good time while it lasts” He adds.

“So stop flirting and accept friendship. That’s how we spend time together "I tell him.

“I don’t need to flirt and I can still make you come before the year is over” he smiles and I do too.

“Keep dreaming” He stops at my place putting the car in park and hands me my bag of tips and some cherries. Somehow the gesture is sexual and when he smirks I know he feels it too.

Authors note: how are you moving forward. LMK in the comments. Don't forget to ❣ Like, ❝ Comment, ↺ Reblog

tags:

@wnbweasley @becauseimher @ariiaeltheedonn @woahthatshitfat @miniaturehideoutmentality @kokobells @ffenthusiastt @sowhatariyana @theegoddessofmelanin

@fictionalreads @roxytheimmortal @fairytale07 @rampsen @rosey1981 @lauraaan182 @lynaye1993 @g1g1l @writingsbytee @different-fandomz @rose-bliss

@loveschrisbrown20 @cherrybeedotcom @ariiaellbtheedonn @motheroffae @prettylilteine @thabiddie23 @next-bex-bet @magik22 @slvt4her @blckblossom @gopaperless @naughtynolly-

blog @daddiespamm @blackmoonchilee @nikkireeds553 @lovedlover @akiwioflife @shurisleftearring @piscesdashcam @bettybelle @kaystacks17 @notapradagurl7 @hotebonynearby  @armani9-9 @wildcardmelaninfreak @blackgurlkillinit

[jackiequick]

—This Is The Place I Feel At Home… | Marvel AU

Pairing: Jason & Elizabeth

Additional Cast: Tony, Liane and Louis

—

Summary: A home isn’t the place, it’s the people in your life that who help build the home together

———

Note: This is Earth 82. Jason and Elizabeth nicknames are JJ & Liz

Inspired: A certain show on NBC if you know, you know ;) and the song To Build a Home by Cinematic Orchestra

Fic Type: Fluff & Angst

———

Superbowl Sunday.

Usually a StarkWood event with tables and chairs all lined up, participants will run through the entire house playing. Family members and friends going out or staying in to enjoy a day off.

But this year was different. The kids were older and no one was around to enjoy the night like they used to. Louis went out to the mountains for a party with his girlfriend Laurel, Liane was busy shopping with her friend Petra along and Tony decided to head out to a party with Rhodes.

So that left Jason and Lizzie all alone to spend the evening together. It felt like an empty nest, but it wasn’t so bad. Sitting on the couch, eating chips and drinking as much as possible while watching television. The two even pushed the coffee table off to the side, making room for the two of them.

“A dance, m’lady?” Jason teased, extending his hand as he grinned.

Elizabeth chuckled, taking his hand, “Why certainly, good sir.”

The two danced together and laughed, looking around as they played around with the idea of extending their home. Building a bigger house to remodel together or buying a new one to renovate for a forever home they stay in when they’re old and grey, with great value.

A new production for this family.

“How about we take this talk upstairs?” Elizabeth teased in a suggestive tone and smirked, “The kids will come back later.”

“Mrs. Starkwood, how naughty!” Jason teased back as he smirked, lifting her up into an embrace hearing his wife’s squeals, “I love the way you think.”

There was laughter and chatter all the way through the bedroom floor…

——

Hours passed, the kids returned home, except for Louis who stayed over at Laurel’s house that night. Liane went to help their mother with fixing up the living room and put away any food that was left out. Tony decided to take a few minutes to clean up the kitchen with their father, making sure to throw away anything that might need to be thrown out.

Music softly played in the background as background noise as they all quietly talked and sang along to the sound coming from the radio. Liane was the first person to go upstairs, not with a kiss on the forehead from both parents and Tony soon followed after, turning off the items in the kitchen before he did. The still new dog, Bailey, went running downstairs to the living room to sleep. Elizabeth asked if her husband was coming up upstairs as Jason replied he’ll be there in a minute.

Jason took that time to tidy around the living room, write a note to Louis that was pinned near the entrance, turn off a few lights and then headed to bed.

Soon enough, the house was sound asleep with not even a single word was made out in the halls. Suddenly, an ever so quiet ticking sound appeared in the air, a switch downstairs in the kitchen flipped on.

The soft crumble of fresh flames crawled up the fabric and began to rise into the curtains within the kitchen, then slowly disappeared as it toppled onto the walls filled with memories and reminders…

———

————

A smell of smoke and burnt flesh wood filled his senses as Jason sat upright. He yawned and fumbled quietly toward the door, but as he opened the bedroom door he was greeted with brightly painted orange flames.

He slammed the door shut as he said, “Lizzie! I need you to wake, baby, the house is on fire. Get dressed and put some shoes on!”

Lizzie woke up to the sound of her husband's voice and gasped, “What?”

Jason opened the door to call out to the kids, “Kids! The house is on fire, Tony! Lia!” He heard their voice and the sound of Liane’s screams as she swung opened her door, “Guys, close your doors! I’m coming to get you!”

Jason closed the door rushing to put on his sneakers and a sweater, exclaiming how he’s going downstairs for Louis in a panic. Elizabeth was putting her hair in a quick bun as she told him that Louis is not here, he stayed at Laurel’s house, as he nodded in response. Elizabeth rushed to the bathroom to wet any towel, and started removing the bedsheets from their bed. She watched in horror and panic as Jason rushed out the bedroom door towards Tony’s room.

He crawled and grabbed the door open, only to see Tony hyperventilating and coughing. His eyes were wide open as he tugged on his shoes, before meeting his father’s eyes.

“No, I’m not going out there! I’ll climb out my window or something!” Tony shouted, shaking his head, as his father pulled him down to the ground and he breathed deeply.

“Tony, buddy, there’s no time, come on!” Jason shouted, coughing as he led his son towards the room, watching Tony scurry into the bedroom floor.

Jason shouted, “Princess! I’m coming back for you!” As he shut the door coughing loudly, looking over to see Elizabeth going to open the window. He watched his wife breathing heavily as she coughed.

Elizabeth put the towel under the door and rushed to open the window taking in the cold brick air looking over her shoulder, “Darling hurry up!”

“I’m trying!” Jason shouted before turning to Tony with a firm expression and sighed, “If I’m not back in 3 minutes, you take your mother out that window.”

Tony nods frantically, “And if she doesn’t?”

“If she won’t go, you drag her out.”

“Wait don’t…”

“You’ll be fine.”

——

When Jason rushed out again, this time to find Liane, he was meant by a different type of expression. Screams and cries coming from his daughter, as he shut the door behind her.

He cupped her cheek, “Hey, hey, look at me. We gotta go.”

“It wasn’t my fire! I didn’t cause it!” Liane screamed between her cries as he wrapped a wet towel over her.

“I know you didn’t but baby we gotta go.”

“I don’t wanna!”

But he ignored her cries of refusal as he breathed out looking around frantically for an opportunity for assistance. Elizabeth and Tony’s screams were heard from the bedroom, threats from Lizzie that she’d come in there to get them, if they didn't respond back soon. Jason took the mattress off the bed as Liane screamed wondering what was his logic, but the answer soon came.

The door was open as they were meant once again with bright orange flames as the mattress was used as a shield against the fire, allowing for them to escape the bedroom and into the main bedroom. Tony slammed the door shut once they came as he screamed at how incredibly insane this situation was.

———

Cough, shouting and crying was heard from the whole family as they escaped through the window then stood on the roof. Elizabeth’s eyes were filled with fear seeing the danger and damage they were inflicted upon. She helped Jason finish tying the sheets together to create a rope, as they lowered Tony down first onto the ground as next went Liane who appeared just as frantic as her brother.

“Shit. I think Bailey’s still in the house…” Tony suddenly shouted as Liane’s realization hit her as well, wiping sweat off his face.

“What?! No, no, no!” Liane yelled looking around as if she could see the dog across the flames and held her brother close.

Jason caught his wife’s attention as he wrapped the sheets under her armpits secured with her grip holding on firmly. He looked at her in disbelief and panicking, his eyes filled with the same intensity as she held.

“I love you.” He said slowly lowering her down towards the ground where the kids stood.

“I love you more.” She breathed deeply as she replied watchung him slowly disappearing from her gaze as she was lowered.

Jason sighed in relief seeing his wife and kids down on the grass, as Elizabeth tugs their children to step away from the engulfing flames that were screaming from every window to crawl out even further. Jason takes a slight breath, coughing even harder than before and hisses in pain, not fully aware of the burns that appeared on his hands and forearms yet.

“Bailey is still in there!” Liane suddenly yelled once more.

Jason looked between the house and his family frantically as he yelled, “Forget the dog! I’ll buy you a new one!”

“No! Bailey!”

“I don’t hear him!”

Liane huffed and coughed even further, ready to race though the front door to grab said dog but Tony drags her back by the waist shouting how the dog’s not worth it. Tony’s voice was clear as day, trying to be the voice of reason here. Jason was breathing heavily through his mouth as his gaze fell upon the house in flames and his family.

But before he could say another word or turn around to climb back inside, Elizabeth’s firm screams through all the tension as she glared daggers at his direction.

“JJ! Jason! If you go back inside, I swear I'll drag you out myself!” Elizabeth screamed, coughing with a pointed finger straight at him.

Lizzie knew that if she didn’t catch his attention and made that harsh threat, he would’ve risked his life to save that fairly new dog and a couple of items within the house. She hated the words that escaped her lips, but she wasn’t blind to the dangers that were in front of her and the even bigger ones that would happen if he returned though their bedroom window. Furthermore, she could see the moment of doubt across her husband’s face, to know he was at a crossroads here.

Without a second later, Jason made a swift move as he climbed down the sheets that were created to make a rope and stepped onto the grass. He stumbled backwards, as Elizabeth held him upwards as her gaze was fixed between her husband, children and their home that was up in flames.

Tony held his sister close as she tried to fight back, but her tears stopped her as she screamed. Liane flopped into her brother’s arms sadly as her word quieted down and her gaze fell onto the house. Tony exhaled looking around watching their home, a pang of sadness filled in his chest as he sucked in a breath and sniffled. His own eyes were wet, leaning against his mother.

Elizabeth and Jason felt dizzy at the sight, coughing and gasping for air. The sounds of firetrucks and shouts could be heard from a distance that grew closer by the seconds, along with the screaming colors of police cars driving up the street. The cries from an ambulance appeared within grasp, as Jason rested his head next to his wife as she wrapped her arms around his waist. He tugs Tony and Liane forward into the embrace that was already formed from the one he created with Elizabeth.

———

————

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

Extra notes to talk about in this AU

Bailey is fine don’t worry!!

Liz & JJ took Tony, Louis and Liane in when they were practically babies cuz they’re parents couldn’t afford them etc (or maybe one of them is biologically their own and they adopted the other two?? We discuss this later!!)

This fire sadly happened but it gave the whole family an opportunity to get a better view of the world as they live somewhere better, expanding their horizons and creating new memories while still keeping the old ones alive

The fire and the fact that the family stayed together ALIVE, showcase a huge view for Liane and Tony, who will grow up to become Superheroes influence them to fight for what matters most.

We can discuss this more later 😉

~~~~~~~~

Anyways that’s all folks I hope you enjoy it! Let me know what you think in the comments below 👇🏼

Remember to like, comment and share your thoughts 💭

Tags: @gaminggirlsstuff f @gcthvile @missstrawbs2001 @djs8891 @starkleila @aidanxsophxoxo @mandylove1000 @yetanotherwells @topgun-imagines @buckysteveloki-me @sherloquestea @ximehs @savemewattpad @rose-of-oz @rowinablacks-moodboardsandstims @rickb-chaos @capsshinyshield @blueboirick @wickedocs @rowinablx

[sammysamstuff]

Very touching Hannibal telling Abigail he knows what monsters are (speaking of himself) and calling her a victim when in fact, he was a victim himself, yet he sees himself as a monster. I know Bryan chose the “nothing happened to me, I happened” approach so we don’t see much of Hannibal’s past tragedies, especially about Mischa and her impact in his life, but I’d have loved to have seen more about young Hannibal and his Becoming and how it made him who he is.

1.04 | 1.09