#no idea what hannibal’s power would be though i didn’t think this far

[orion-pdf]

is it 9 years too late for me to think about hannibal lector and will graham in dbd

[collidingxworlds]

HANNIBAL LECTER - omniishambles

   God’s two faces. Hannibal smiled at that phrase while he watched Will eat.

      “There are far more crimes pinned on the devil when they should be attributed to God. The fallen angel becomes a scapegoat for all that’s wrong in the world.”

   He tilted his head in thought. The other man was right, of course. There was something that they were missing, a vital clue which would give them an insight into where - and who - he might strike next. Did he have his own hierarchy? His own sense of which sins were the most vile and which the least? It seemed likely.

   But how to figure that out?

       “Pride is often thought to be the father and promoter of all the other sins.” Hannibal mused, taking a moment to admire his own plate. All men were guilty of pride. Though Hannibal himself didn’t consider it much of a sin. “But you’re right- it will do no good to guess what order he has in mind for punishment. We all have personal opinions on the severity of our sins…”

   An amused glint in his eyes as he regarded Will for a moment, holding his gaze before he reached for his glass of wine and took a sip.

      “A man so intent on sending these perceived sinners to meet their fate must have an altar. A church. Whether part of the existing community or one he founded for himself. A priest, perhaps?”

Will mused on Hannibal’s words, slowly chewing on his next bite and eventually swallowing it with a generous sip of wine. His mind was being pulled in different directions at the same time, in a way that, once upon a time, he would have found overwhelming. Nowadays he could handle it, but it was still difficult for him to focus properly on the case when he was busy also with pondering theological what-ifs and wondering if the pigeon he was eating was really a pigeon.

“Does the Devil truly exist?” He ended up asking, setting down the glass. “As you said, he serves mostly as a convenient scapegoat to justify events that wouldn’t fit the idea of a just God. He could be just a myth to hide away the Almighty’s crimes. A punishment without a proper reason to legitimate it is just sadistic cruelty.”

The profile’s gaze fell from the psychiatry’s face, locking on his half empty glass of wine. How to find a killer who followed a set of rules known only by the perpetrator himself and his God? He couldn’t see him, not clearly enough, not yet. Perhaps the next murder would have made the image sharper, but they couldn’t just sit around and wait for him to strike again.

But where to start from? Religious delusions weren’t so uncommon among people affected by a psychotic disorders. Perhaps Hannibal had had the right idea, bringing up ideas for a possible background. The divine would stay mysterious, at least for now, but they could speculate on the human.

“I don’t think he’s part of a group. He is the Chosen One, the only one who can serve as God’s right hand. He might have a specific place of worship, but it’s a private shrine, a place known by him alone,” Will eventually answered, shaking his head lightly. “And he couldn’t possibly be a priest, because he would never associate himself with such a greedy, power-hungry, corrupted organisation.”

There was a thought stuck between his brows, he could feel it’s weight, but he couldn’t put it into focus.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he targeted someone strongly associated with the Church at some point. Plenty of sinners hiding behind the face of a self-proclaimed ‘man of God’.”

He pause to finish his drink, a pensive expression lingering on his features.

“He could have been part of a congregation and he could have left it after realising that they weren’t doing God’s work as they were supposed to.” His fingers drummed against the polished surface of the table. “He could have been a theology student. It’s obvious that he known the Scriptures by heart. Or he could have grown up in an extremely religious family. That could explain why his vision of God and sinners is so inflexible.”

[detectivehannibal]

Studying with Hannibal Lecter

__

Hannibal Lecter x Student! Fem! Reader

Warnings: Smut, Cock warming.

Request: Hannibal x fem student reader? She’s trying to focus amd write her exam online but hanni gets horny from watching her?smut pleeeeeeaze

A/N: Disclaimer that the reader is over the age of 18!

__

Going back to college you finish your education was one of the best and worst ideas you ever had.

There were definitely pros and cons to the situation.

The pros were that you were working toward achieving something that you could use for the rest of your life.

You would be able to consider yourself an expert in your field.

Not to mention the bragging rights.

On the flip side, you were always slammed with work and all the studying you were doing was giving you flash backs to high school.

It didn’t help that you were a perfectionist, and that you would literally study until you fell asleep or Hannibal dragged you away to bed.

Hannibal is more than happy to share his home office with you, allowing you to sit at his large desk and use whatever material you might need.

Hannibal tries not to bother you when you’re studying or working on an assignment.

He’ll poke his head in every so often to make sure you don’t need anything.

He’ll bring you tea, coffee, a snack, etc.

You name it and he’ll get it for you.

Sometimes though, you’ll ask him to come sit with you so you can chat while you work.

You knew that going back to school had taken your attention off of him and he was beginning to feel distant from you.

So you try to reach out to him as best you can.

He’ll pull up a chair and sit next to you.

Sometimes he’ll even do some of his own work and the two of you will work together and make small talk.

He did what he could to lower your stress levels.

He wanted you to be successful.

But sometimes your workload was just too much.

There was one evening particular where you were REALLY stressed out.

Like, you came home and holed yourself up in his office without saying a word.

It sparked him as odd, considering that you always took the time to ask him about his day, no matter what you had to do.

He waited a couple of hours before going to check on you.

He stood near the doorway, watching as you typed furiously on your laptop.

He originally wasn’t going to say anything, but the longer he watched, the more...aroused that he got.

He couldn’t quite pinpoint why something as simple as you working hard got him hot and bothered.

He figured it was because he hadn’t really been intimate with you in a while.

That and there was something so attractive about seeing you so focused on something.

He approached you quietly in his socked feet.

He rested his hands on your shoulders carefully, breaking you from your trance.

“Hey, Hanni.” was all you could really muster to say at the moment.

“My love...why don’t you take a break?”

Normally, that was all it took for you to tear away for a bit,

But today you were determined to power through.

“No, I can’t. I’ve got to finish this.” 

“You’ve been working for far too long. I really wish you’d take a break.”

His thumbs started rubbing at the tense muscles in your shoulder, making his offer so hard to refuse.

He could see the stress on your face and he could practically smell the tension.

You needed some relief...some stress relief.

“Just 15 minutes. That’s all I ask for.”

His lips had fallen to your neck now, kissing and sucking softly.

A sigh escaped your chest, reluctance coursing through you.

But eventually, you agreed.

Hannibal stood you up from the desk chair, only to sit down himself and pull you on his lap.

You straddled him, the two of you making out and sharing passionate “I love yous”.

You felt bad when you felt how needy his kisses were.

They said nothing short of “I’ve missed you”.

Hannibal started to get handsy, his fingertips teasing the waistband of your shorts.

His hard on was obvious underneath you.

He slipped your shorts off of your legs while you worked on getting his belt and pants off.

He turned you around to where you were facing the desk again, raising you and lowering you down onto his erection.

The moan that you let out was music to his ears.

You went to start moving, but his hand stopped you from doing so.

“Hannibal, what-”

“Go on, darling. Read to me what you have so far.”

He had to be kidding.

He did all this to get you to stop working and now he wanted you to review it?

You tried to shift your hips to get some kind of friction, but he held you extremely still.

You started to read off of your laptop screen.

You were stuttering through it, an occasional curse sounding out.

He was buried deep inside of you.

His tip prodding at your cervix.

He made noises of interest and affirmation as you read, clearly impressed with what you had so far.

He turned down all of your pleas, prompting you to keep going.

You finished reading, ignoring the way that the words had began to blur.

You were begging now.

“Hannibal, please fuck me.”

“But I thought you liked feeling me like this?”

“I do, but...it’s so much better when you’re moving. Please, baby, I promise I’ll be good.”

Finally, Hannibal couldn’t bear to hear your whimpers anymore,

He wanted to make you feel good.

He lifted you off of his dick momentarily to turn you back around.

He took a second to marvel at how you had soaked him.

You barely waited to sink down onto him completely before you started rolling your hips against him.

Hannibal groaned in your ear, his voice rumbling and low.

He guided your hips in a rhythm, loving the way you bounced on his lap.

You angled yourself back a bit so he’d hit your g-spot every time you landed back onto him.

He wanted to get you to a fast, but good orgasm.

His fingers rubbed at your sensitive clit to bring you closer to your finish.

He thrusted up into you hard.

Each new thrust melting away more and more of your stress.

He sucked hickeys on your neck and praised you endlessly.

“You’re so good. I’m so proud of you.”

“Such a good girl. You’re so perfect.”

He worked you until you unraveled around him, your release hitting you full force with a flash of white.

He came inside of you, milking your walls white.

Your head fell onto his shoulder as you went limp, too tired to move.

His hands rubbed over your back as your breathings returned to normal.

He left sweet, lazy kisses wherever he could.

Your voice sounded out shortly after, drawing a laugh from him.

“I think...I can stop here for the night.”

[darling-i-read-it]

Nero d'Alvola

4x04

Hannibal Lecter x reader x Will Graham

Hannibal Re-Write Series Masterlist (my season 4 version)

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: death, murder, detailed description of dead bodies, cannablism, really eleborate crime scene, burned bodies, knives, guns

Author’s Note: the relationship between miriam and will is the one im most excited to flesh out through this season lol so this one was fun for me

Summary: Hannibal makes a call to Freddie. The reader slightly loses her shit some more.

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

(not my gif)

Freddie was closing in but not as fast as she wanted to. She found that Florence had a gorgeous array of suits that she could get and was happy enough to help herself. She knew though that that was not the reason she was there. She was there to find Hannibal before Jack did. It wasn’t an easy task but it was one she was doing, slowly but surely.

If she could just narrow down which of these many buildings housed a murderer, that would be enough.

===

Alana needed to keep her family safe. Staying at her house was going to drive her mad. Sitting on the couch, waiting for something to go wrong. Margot could tell that her wife was growing more antsy by the moment. Something Margot would catch Alana staring out the window defensively, like something was going to jump through the glass and shatter the life she had built for herself.

That’s why Margot suggested they go.

Alana put her cane on the ground as she walked into the clear white room. She would have thought Chilton would have gotten out of the hospital by now but he was far too burned to do that.

“I’m surprised you aren’t dead,” Alana commented as she walked into the room, hair up in a bun, red suit on. Margot walked beside her. It had taken some convincing to get Alana this far away from their son but eventually she caved. She needed to take some of the power back for herself, and have some sort of leverage for when Hannibal eventually showed up.

Chilton looked up at her.

“Oh yes, I’ve been informed that you can’t speak very well,” Alana said, looking down at him. She was pleased to be standing above him. He had always been the slimy kind. She had taken his job after all, they had never been friends.

His skin was still charred. He didn’t even look like himself. She wouldn't be able to recognize him like this from far away.

“Why are you here?” he asked, teeth grinding as he spoke, the words just barely able to escape his thin lips.

“We’ve come to ask you about Will and Y/N Graham. Ask what you knew about where they might be,” Margot said. Chilton’s eyes, veiny white, darted around the room.

“I don’t know,” he told them after some effort. “You had Hannibal,” he said, referring to when Alana had Hannibal under her care.

“And you had Will. Hannibal is slightly predictable but there are other variables at work here that we should take into account.”

“The only person,” Chilton said and it seemed to be taking him a lot of effort to speak. His chest rose and fell a couple of times before he was able to speak again. “That is allowed to hurt them.” Another long pause. “Is Hannibal himself.”

Margot let that mull over in the air for a moment.

“Possessions,” Chilton said.

“They’re his possessions,” Margot breathed and nodded. Like he didn’t quite love them, further than Hannibal could love. They were things he could play with until he got bored of them.

The barbaric idea struck Margot but it did not strike Alana as she held her cane tight in her hand.

===

Will Graham was not an avid lover of the arts. Hannibal knew this when he decided the three of you had to live together. You could grow to love the things he adored, though it may take some time. But Will would always be the fisherman that liked to use 2 in one shampoo and conditioner. Hannibal didn’t think he minded this very often. Just that it was odd, considering his tastes.

But Will had his own beauty.

He was especially beautiful now, with his hand in stabbing someone's last breath out of them. Blood splattered onto his face, his clean curls frazzled.

“Why did you do that?” Hannibal asked, looking down at the awfully rude dinner guest. It was the fourth death at this house and would surely not be the last. It was however, the first death Will did of his own volition.

“Because he was talking too much,” Will spat.

“I really should get rid of these knives,” you muttered, looking down. If Will didn’t know better he would think you were being held hostage here. You were always just slightly too monotone, just a bit uninterested. “You all keep using them to kill people.”

“You do as well,” Hannibal argued.

“On the contrary,” you muttered. “Will killed this one. You killed the first one and the second one. Bedelia was killed by none of us.” Hannibal mulled that over.

“I’ve been taking all the fun, I apologize,” he said. You shook your head. Will thought the expression on your face looked far too much like Bedelia’s. Angry, helpless. “It’s quite alright.” You picked up the napkin that was on your lap. “I want to go and lay down.”

===

Will and you were in bed while Hannibal stayed up just a little bit longer in the gentle glow of the lamp light. His fingers drummed the phone. He didn’t like to use it, considering where he was at.

But he was now contemplating his happy little family.

Things were coming together. Soon, he imagined, you would come back around. You would be rough around the edges and more ruthless but you would be back. Will was already right where Hannibal figured he would be.

He didn’t want this to be ruined by Jack Crawford again.

This solution was temporary, he knew that.

But it was all he could think to do right now. It would buy him the necessary time to move the chess pieces around the board as he saw fit.

He picked up the phone and dialed.

It rang only twice and then Freddie Lounds picked up.

“Hello, Freddie Lounds here.” She sounded just as she had the last time he laid eyes on her. Pestering, quick, squeaky.

“Hello Freddie.”

Her breath caught in her throat.

Freddie was standing in a wine shop, eyes wide. She walked outside briskly and leaned against the store window. She very quickly went to record the call on her phone.

“Hannibal. Are you aware you’re the talk of the town back in America?”

“I had a hunch.”

“Why are you calling me?” she questioned. He looked through the door at the bedroom. He could see only the blanket indents of yours and Will’s feet but they fueled him with confidence.

“I need a favor.”

“Oh? And what do I get in return?”

“You get the scoop of a lifetime Miss Lounds. But only if you lead our friend Jack astray. Do you have a pen?”

===

Alana swished her wine, looking at her wide. She was skittish, though she was acting like she wasn’t. She was trying and failing to stay grounded.

“I could have ended this so long ago,” she mused. Margot was pleased she was talking about it.

“How would you know it would end up here?”

“I should have known,” Alana muttered, more to herself than Margot. “I knew Hannibal. Will and Y/N were my friends. I should have done something the second Jack wanted Will to work for him.”

“You were clearly otherwise indisposed.”

“You promised not to speak about that,” Alana said but she was laughing. Margot shrugged.

“We’ve all made mistakes.” “My mistake was a murderer,” Alana breathed. “And then he kept making mistakes. Mistake after mistake.”

“By that logic it’s also my fault. I knew Hannibal and Will and Y/N. Why should you be the only one at fault?”

“I know what Y/N would say,” Alana said fondly. “She would blame only one person. One man.”

===

When Will’s breath was even you slipped out of bed. Your bare feet padded on the ground to the bathroom. Hannibal had gone to sleep forty five minutes ago and he too was now under. You watched the two of them as they breathed, trying to feel something for them.

You knew you loved both of them. In your mind you knew that.

But the only thing you could feel was hatred for Jack Crawford. Spite. Vengeance.

You put on one of the suits Hannibal had given you and slipped on your boots. You grabbed the kitchen knife and walked down the stairs to the street level. The knife was cool against your side, where you had kept it so you wouldn’t alarm anyone.

You had checked to see what the last FBI plane had arrived and where they were staying.

You hailed a cab and asked it to take you to the hotel. Fancy. Something Bella would have chosen for Jack when she was alive.

The drive was unbearably long, a good thirty minutes. You told the cab driver not to wait and then you were there, so close to Jack Crawford’s final death. You wondered if he would have the scar you gave him. You thought about reopening it, cutting him where he should be cut, where Abigail had been cut twice.

It would be poetic.

It would be deserved.

You walked up to the front desk.

“I’m sorry,” you said, pulling up your old receptionist voice. “My dear Jack Crawford is staying here but didn’t tell me the number. Could you help me?”

“I can’t give you that information ma’am.”

“Oh I know but it’s a date and I want to surprise him.” You leaned over the desk. “Just lookup Crawford for me. Please.”

The receptionist stared at you and your suit. He was clearly too tired to fight with you. He put some words into the computer and shook his head.

“There’s no Jack Crawford here. There’s a Miram Crawford.” He narrowed his eyes on you. You leaned back, straightening your posture.

“Oh. His wife. Awful timing. Can you give me that number?”

“361.”

“You’re a dear.” You slid a sizable amount of cash to him and walked to the elevator. You rode it up to the third floor. You knocked on room 361, standing at the side so that Miriam couldn’t see you through the peephole.

She opened the door slowly and you quickly moved so you were in front of her, pushing her inside the room. She gasped. You knocked her gun out of her hand and held the knife to her stomach, drawing blood through her white t-shirt.

“Miriam, Miriam, Miriam,” you whispered. “What are you doing here? Jack too scared to face me in person?”

She didn’t say anything. You were too impatient to be nice. You jabbed the knife edge a little further. Her eyes went wide.

“I won’t say anything.”

“I know Jack Crawford is here,” you whispered. “Where is he?”

“He’s not here.”

“Where Miriam?” “He isn’t here!” You rolled your eyes and took a step back.

“That was rude of me.” You brushed off your shirt and leaned down, picking up her gun. He leaned against the window, her back to the glass. She was petrified. She had met you before, or maybe she hadn’t, maybe she had just heard of you. What had they called you in the papers when Will was in jail? The Bloody Valentines. “Miriam, where is Jack?”

“I don’t know,” she said, trying to even her breathing but failing. “He doesn’t even know that I’m here. I-I came here to help him but he didn’t want me in the field already.” “I can see why,” you mused. “You aren’t ready to face Hannibal.”

“I could arrest you right now,” she said, voice stiff.

“Without this?” You waved the gun around. “I doubt it.”

“He’s gonna get you,” she promised. “Jack is gonna get you and Will and Hannibal. You’re all bad people.”

“Are you trying to convince yourself or me?”

“You should just turn yourself in. Tell me where Hannibal is.”

“I should. It’s not like you can take him.” You cleared your throat and put the gun down on the table that was between the two of you. “Miriam you’re in way over your head.” “You and Will didn’t start like this. Will was nice.”

“Will killed a man at dinner yesterday,” you told her and her eyes fell. The idea of Will in her head was so heroic and helpful, albeit slightly jittery. Why would he do this? Why would you?

“Jack’s in Florence he just isn’t with you. That’s fine.” You held the knife in your hand and walked up to her. Her breathing got more erratic as you raised the knife. The edge hit the wall just beside her head. She jumped. “Tell him I’m ready for him to face his fears.”

She went to grab the knife to fight you back but you had already left the room. She scrambled for the gun, rushing forward to the door but at the end of the hall the elevator doors were closing with you behind them.

====

“Are you sure Freddie said Hannibal was staying here?” Theadore asked. He looked up at the warehouse. Jack couldn’t shake the feeling that it was eerily similar to the one he had found Miraim in after he thought she was dead.

“Yes,” Jack said, voice monotone. He took out his gun and walked to the front door. He knocked only once. When there was no answer he kicked the door open, Theadore walking behind him inside.

It was a large empty warehouse that smelled vaguely of decomposing corpses. There was a body in the middle of the room against a pillar. Flowers pooling around the floor, a dead blue face with flowers coming out of the severed neck. Several limbs were missing.

Theadore gasped, gagging.

“Bedelia?”

4x05

Hannibal rewrite tag list: @russian-soft-bitch, @llperfectsymmetryll, @ericacactus, @vlightning95, @lov3vivian

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

Cult Girl: Doctorate (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 8

Cult girl and Hannibal go through an exhaustive list of potential adoptive couples. 

@wisesandwichshark

Trigger warning: sexual harassment, christianity, discussion of pregnancy and family planning, adoption, murder and cannibalism 

Step two: find an adoptive family.

Some would say your list of expectations for potential adoptive parents was too extensive. Impossible for any human to reach. But it was really just the bare minimum.

Regardless of if they were two men, two women, one of each, or a few people, the parents had to be trustworthy. It wasn't easy to earn Hannibal's trust, but he could recognize those who had the capacity to right away. It was a little instinct you had dubbed 'friend or food'.

On paper, the apostolic pastor and his wife of 19 years seemed like the perfect candidates. The adoption agency tried to push them on you, as they had a great track record with adopting from them prior. Three boys, all of which were honors students.

Hannibal insisted on a formal introduction, during which you could conduct a proper, though surreptitious, interview. It was an invitation to dinner.

He invited the couple into his office, where a pot of tea and an interrogation was waiting for them. Then there was you. Barely-pregnant little [F/N], feeling entirely safe so long as your fiancé was beside you.

"You're doing the right thing, y'know." The woman, who introduced herself as Mrs. Landon, said upon meeting you.

"How do you mean?" You asked, already knowing the answer.

"All god's life is precious." She said, placing a hand on your not-even-remotely-showing-yet stomach. "You're walking in obedience to the lord by giving this child a shot at life."

Strike one: bringing up religion unprompted. Strike two: touching me without asking first.

You wanted to swat her hand away, but remembered that patience was a virtue. She and her husband took a seat across from you.

"Y'know," The man began, his mannerisms eerily similar to those of his wife. "I don't usually begin with the god talk, but I think a higher power had to have been involved in the conception of this- well, our child. I'd like to think the good lord brought us together today."

Strike three: already believes he is entitled to my child. You're outta here.

"Don't flatter the adoption agency like that, Jacob." Hannibal chuckled, placing his teacup on the side table.

"I'm serious, Dr. Lecter." Jacob interjected. "Faith and I really do believe that god put us on this earth to prepare his smallest soldiers for the spiritual war."

You shot Hannibal a side glance that said 'can we please just eat them now?'.

The answer was no. Hannibal liked to play with his food.

"And your adult children have all moved out?" He asked.

"That's right." Jacob nodded. "We have plenty of room in our five-bedroom house for the new little slugger to run around in."

"And if it's a girl!" The wife interrupted. "We have enough closet space for all the denim maxi-skirts money could buy."

Strike four: arbitrarily genders the behavior of a nine-week-old embryo.

The man then returned the teacup to the table, not bothering to use the saucer and instead leaving a nasty ring of condensation on the polished mahogany.

"Okay." Hannibal huffed, resignedly rising from his seat. He pulled two hypodermic needles from his back pocket and carefully, subtly stuck them onto the couples' necks. They couldn't even scream.

The tacos al pastor that followed (after a few days of marinating, of course) were exquisite.

The next week brought a new couple to your doorstep. Frank and Angela, they were named. Their claim to fame was that their oldest son played football for one of those big southern party schools. Either Auburn or Alabama. There was hardly a difference.

You sat for what felt like hours listening to the man speak in unintelligible football babble, waiting for him to take a breath. Surprisingly, it was the mom who got him to finally shut up.

"Frank, please." She said with more frustration than this one situation even remotely warranted. Either she had enough intuition to know she was being tested, or she’d spent the last decade putting up with this. Possibly both. "You're boring our hosts to death."

"What? No way! She loves it!" Frank replied, then turned to you. Not to Hannibal, just you. “Aren’t you having a great time, sweetheart?” 

Strike one: takes advantage of the female socialization to be passive and polite, allowing himself to take up the most space.

You shook your head. “I hate football.” 

His wife looked quite pleased with herself. 

“Angie, I just wanted her to know what good breeding her son is going to have.” He said, without a lick of irony or self-awareness. He eyed you up and down and licked his lips. “And it is mutual, I see.” 

The room went quiet as everyone tried to determine whether he was serious or if it was just a fucked-up joke. The longer the silence lingered, the more you realized he wasn’t kidding. Angela looked like she wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

“I don’t know what the agency told you, Mr. Wyatt,” Hannibal said, trying not to grit his teeth. “She isn’t a surrogate. She’s already pregnant.” 

Frank’s jaw hung dumbly open. “I thought you were looking for a sperm donor? I just-” 

“No.” You cut him off, raising your hand and covering your face. “I don’t want to know what you thought.” 

“Well, I would!” Angela interjected, righteous fury eclipsing what should have been crippling embarrassment. “What exactly did you think this was, Francis?” 

“The file said that he was over fifty, so I just assumed--” Frank rationalized, his voice far too loud for the room. “Y’know? That she wanted a baby that wouldn’t come out all funny-looking?” 

“You’re disgusting.” You blurted out. 

“Francis Howard Wyatt,” Angela scolded as if she were talking to her son. “You are forty-eight and the only increasing part of your body is your blood pressure. Why on Earth would any woman choose you over her smart, handsome doctor fiancé?”

This made Hannibal sit up a little straighter. He wanted Francis on the butcher’s block yesterday, but he momentarily considered letting Angela live. 

“They’re not married?” Frank whispered, or whatever the loud-aggressive-toxic-masculinity version of whispering was. He paused, as the dead hamster on the wheel powering his brain crept back to life. “That actually makes sense.” 

Angela loudly smacked her hand against her face. “Dr. Lecter, Ms. [L/N], I am so sorry.” 

“It’s quite alright, Mrs. Wyatt.” Hannibal stood up, readying the next batch of needles. “It just makes what I’m about to do easier.” 

It took quite a bit of restraint to not make their deaths hurt, but he made up for it when it came time to carve. He had fun running his fittingly small penis through a meat grinder. Not with any intent to cook it, though. Just because. 

Hannibal wanted to make Francis Wyatt into the least dignified meal imaginable. You quickly recalled going to a friend’s barbeque in Georgia and encountering a horrendously Southern delicacy known as Frito Pie. You proposed the idea to Hannibal, who, after reviling in abject horror at the notion of eating something out of a bag, agreed that it was the most fitting end. He could spare a few pounds of flesh to grind up and make into chili. 

The third week brought yet another couple. They seemed smart enough to realize your invitation wasn't the friendly olive branch the others had interpreted it as. Their healthy skepticism was refreshing, to say the least. Then, you met them: Max and Archie.

"You'll have to forgive my partner's paranoia." Max said upon entering the house. He tugged playfully at Archie's hand. "We watched Get Out recently, so an invitation to the suburbs sounded some alarms in his sleep-deprived brain."

"I love that movie." You chimed in. "It reminds me of my family."

"Oh no." Archie's eyes widened in only half-pretend fear. He shot an I-told-you-so look in his partner's direction. 

"But my favorite horror flick has to be Midsommar." You added. "My friends and I saw a midnight screening and we didn't sleep at all that night."

"But have you seen Hereditary?" Archie posited.

"Of course." You shrugged. "Aster is totally genius."

You made more than just polite conversation with the couple. Max, despite his young age, was a skilled data analyst and day trader. He attributed his success to the hard work of his immigrant parents. Archie was an environmental lawyer and land activist. He was also a bit of a thrill junkie, indulging in everything from scary movies to bungee jumping.

It didn't take long to realize that you wouldn't be eating them. They were far too pleasant of company to eat.

"So when is this baby planning to make its entrance?" Archie asked, gesturing to you. "You don’t look all that pregnant to me."

You put your hand over your slightly-protruding stomach. "Late August, I believe. If everything goes according to plan."

"You're not far along at all, aren’t you?" Max observed. "That gives us plenty of time to prove ourselves to you."

"Believe me." You put up your hand. "You're doing a great job so far."

“If you like horror stories, we might have to indulge you in the last two encounters we had.” Hannibal commented, leaning back comfortably in his chair. That was a good sign. “No blood was spilled, thank god. Would have ruined my carpets. But believe me when I tell you it came very close.” 

The couple laughed along. Archie leaned in like he was about to tell a life-shattering secret. “You wouldn’t believe the hoops we had to jump through to even have the chance to adopt. And I don’t want to say that it’s because we’re an interracial gay couple, but...” 

“Agencies aren’t exactly colorblind.” You finished, via his prompting. 

“She gets it.” Archie pointed to you. “See, Maxie? She agrees with me.” 

Max pushed his glasses up his nose. “I never said I disagreed.” 

You spent the rest of the afternoon waiting for the conversation to take a sharp left turn off a cliff, but it didn’t happen. They were wonderful company; polite, intelligent and articulate. Exactly the kind of people you’d want to see taking care of your child. 

You’d have to look for you next meal elsewhere. 

[longitudinalwaveme]

Worst Flash Storylines and Plot Ideas of All Time

As you’ve probably ascertained from the general contents of this blog, the Flash is my favorite comic book series. I love the characters and most of the stories. However, just like any series that’s been around for eighty years (counting the Jay Garrick stuff), the Flash does, unfortunately, have some truly terrible stories and plot ideas. 

In terms of terrible plot ideas that didn’t completely ruin the surrounding stories: 

1. Barry Allen uses the Mirror Master’s mirrors to manipulate Iris into agreeing to start dating him again (Flash #109). Creepy, Barry. Just creepy. The story is great Silver Age fun otherwise. 

2. Iris West: meanest woman alive. Iris was, by and large, incredibly awful to Barry up until maybe about a year before their 1966 marriage. Almost every time she shows up in an early Silver Age issue, you will admire her daring and independence (this is good) and be bewildered as to why on Earth Barry would want to spend time with a woman who is constantly calling him slow, lazy, and ambition-less (this is not good). It doesn’t really affect any one issue too much, but when read in a conglomerate, she starts looking really awful. Although as bad as Early Silver Age Iris seems as a romantic interest, she’s got nothing on Silver Age Superman and Lois Lane, the most dysfunctional couple in the DCU. 

3. Wally West’s zero-effort code name and costume (Flash #110). It really could not be more obvious how little effort the writers were putting into creating this character. The duplicate origin is also pretty cheesy, but there are enough differences from Barry’s origin for it not to frustrate me. But the name “Kid Flash” and the fact that his first costume was literally identical to Barry’s just feel incredibly lazy. Barry and Wally do have an adorable dynamic in the issue, though, so it’s by no means all bad. 

4. Barry Allen waiting an entire year after his marriage to tell his wife that he’s really the Flash. Frustrating and unnecessary; especially since Joan Garrick had been in on her husband’s secret since the 1940s. 

5. Iris Allen is FROM THE FUTURE. I both love and hate this idea. It’s so perfectly comic-booky, but at the same time, it opened the floodgates for the Allen family being a confusing, time-displaced mess. 

6. The Trial of Barry Allen. This one’s weird. I like many of the individual issues in this arc, and I actually think the last two issues are really great as an ending for Barry Allen’s original run, but this storyline dragged on for waaaaaay too long. There’s a reason I call it the Arc that Never Ends. Also, the titular trial is actually the least interesting part of the entire storyline. His battles with the Rogues and Kadabra are far more interesting. 

7. Wally West’s borderline creepy, chauvinistic attitude towards women under Mike Baron (and, to a much lesser extent, William Messner-Loebs). There’s being a hormonal twenty-something, and then there’s going through girlfriends at the rate other people change their socks. Messner-Loebs mostly avoided this issue by making it clear that Wally was under intense psychological stress that was negatively impacting his behavior, but under Baron and in some of his JLE appearances, he comes across as a real creep around women. 

8. Kadabra overkill under Mark Waid: I like Kadabra, but when he’s the main villain in like four distinct arcs, it gets to be a bit much. It’s like modern Eobard. He is legitimately written well, though, so he doesn’t drag down any of the stories too much. 

9. Pointlessly Dead Rogues: Killing off the Rogues in Underworld Unleashed for no good reason (the rest of the story is great, especially the Trickster). 

10. Pointlessly Dead Rogues 2: Electric Boogaloo: The Golden Glider’s pointless death to build up a character who was himself killed two issues later. (The rest of the story is decent.) Also, the treatment of Lisa in general post-Crisis is frustrating, since she becomes considerably more unhinged than she was before. 

11. Any time Waid tried to write McCulloch, with the exception of Flash vol. 2 #105 (and even there, he seemed off). It’s like he forgot Evan wasn’t Sam. 

12. Apparently, the Top trying to blow up both Central City and half the world makes him a loser? Also, he suddenly hates Piper for no readily apparent reason. (At least the story had some good Piper and Wally bits.) 

13. BARRY ALLEN HAS A SECRET EVIL TWIN! DUN DUN DUN! (The rest of the story, where we get to meet a whole whack of interesting future Flashes, is actually pretty good, but whoo boy, the Malcolm reveal feels like it came straight out of a soap opera.) 

14. In order for Captain Cold to ANGST, the Golden Glider’s pointless death remained in place for over ten years. It did give us a really, really good Capt. Cold story, at least...but it’s still fridging. 

15. Rainbow Raider’s mean-spirited murder by Blacksmith. Poor Roy. 

16. Albert Desmond becomes Hannibal Lecter, only twenty times as rude, for a Gotham Central arc that would’ve been terrific without him as the main villain. 

17. Owen Mercer is an idiotic child murderer and gets killed by the Rogues. Why was this necessary? (The rest of Blackest Night: The Flash is pretty good.) 

18. Josh Jackam-Mardon’s murder. The murder of small children for shock value is pretty gross. Especially since nothing was ever really done with it. 

19. Barry’s PARENTS ARE DEEEEAAAAD! (Okay, it’s really just his mom, but still. This is a very frustrating retcon, since originally his parents were alive and well until after his own death.) 

20. Albert Desmond was Barry’s jerk coworker; which never impacted the plot or led to anything. As a result, it’s just another frustrating retcon. 

21. Sam Scudder murdered someone before becoming the Mirror Master. Yet another Johns retcon that never went anywhere and only serves to darken the Silver and Bronze Age stories after the fact. 

22. Flashpoint (a decent story) wiped out a whole bunch of characters I really liked from existence for several years. Evan McCulloch’s still not back. 

23. Giving the Rogues metahuman powers doesn’t suit them, on the whole. They work better without them. 

24. Roy’s second pointless, brutal death in (I think) Forever Evil. 

25. IT WAS MEEEEE, BARRY! After serving as the main villain for like six arcs in eight years, I’m glad that Eobard finally seems to be getting a rest. The level of bad things he was responsible for was getting ridiculous. 

26. Sam/Lisa. WHY? (The only time it even kind of worked was in Forever Evil.) 

In terms of entire storylines I didn’t like: 

1. The Flash: The Most Terribly Written Man Alive. Poor Bart is aged up with no adequate explanation, loses all the traits that made him a likeable character, fights some awful villains, and then is murdered by the badly OOC Rogues. Meanwhile, Inertia goes from an at least somewhat sympathetic villain to a complete psychopath with little explanation, a murder is retconned into one of Captain Cold’s reformed periods, the Pied Piper and the Trickster completely forget that they’re supposed to be reformed, Abra Kadabra inexplicably teams up with the Rogues despite generally being a solo operative, and all of the Rogues act like total morons, willingly following a teenage speedster for no adequately explained reason. UGH. 

2. Countdown to Infinite Crisis: Even though Piper and Trickster were probably the best part of Countdown, that isn’t saying much. Both of them are uncharacteristically stupid (especially James), and James is a grade-A jerk to Piper for no reason. Also, both of them continue to forget that they reformed, and then James gets brutally murdered and Piper almost loses his mind. Also, the other Rogues cameo, and continue to act like idiots. Countdown: it really does ruin everything it touches. 

Superboy Prime will kill you! He’ll kill you to DEATH! And after you read Countdown, you’ll wish he had killed you to death. 

3. The Identity Crisis Tie-In Retcon: So, you know all that awesome character development the Rogues have had over the years? Well, forget all that, because it was all just Roscoe brainwashing them! Which was something he could definitely do before this story! And why did he do this? Why, because Barry Allen, one of the most upstanding men in the DCU, brainwashed him! Also, apparently, the Top had a huge bodycount that we never heard about back in the Bronze Age, because we need even MORE grimdark retcons for our cheerful Silver/Bronze Age history! I like Geoff Johns’ work, I really do....but BOY HOWDY does he need to lay off on the retcons sometimes. 

4. Identity Crisis: With the exception of Owen’s introduction and the establishment of the relationship between him and Digger, this story was pretty awful all around. More specifically, as far as the Flash was concerned, it was responsible for Digger’s second pointless death. It also killed off poor Jack Drake and poor, mistreated Sue Dibney, who deserved MUCH better. And the Justice League, including Barry, are A-OK with brainwashing, apparently. Comics are fun! 

These last two stories are pretty recent, and they did have some parts I liked, but on the whole I felt they also belonged on the list. 

5. The Trickster finally returns! Hurrah! Except it turns out that he’s way more like the Joker now than he ever was before, and he mind-controls the city in a super-creepy way. A very disappointing return for the character, especially since it was set up really well. 

6. Forever Evil: Captain Cold becomes a murderous dictator with a stupid Santa Beard, all of the Rogues get horrible costumes, and Sam completes his mutation into Evan-in-all-but-name. There are some good characters bits in the story (even for Cold), but on the whole, I found the story to just be unlikeable and depressing and thought Cold was pretty out-of-character. Poor Commander Cold....

So, what are your least favorite Flash storylines and plot ideas? 

[why-this-kolaveri-machi]

the wolf should’ve been afraid of me.

Titans 3.04

just under the wire! ... i hope.

like with the previous review, i’m typing this up as i see the episode. here we go!

spoilers ahead.

1. ... well. that was an interesting cold open.

1.25. i don’t know whether to admire this show’s restraint when it comes to gotham and its excesses, particularly arkham asylum. it’d be easy to go hammer and tongs, like suicide squad (2016) did, or any number of bat media did, at a tropey, colourful~~insanity~~ that can be quite damaging, casting mental illness in strangeness and criminality. it definitely shows gotham as... separate from the rest of the country, its own ecosystem of heroes and villains, a sort of rogue state. 

but that ecosystem is still human, with its heroes needing to clip parts of themselves away just to survive, growing old and needing to be recycled, its villains languishing in the same kinds of systems that fail everybody else who needs to be helped. it’s a quieter, tenser sort of wrongness: not strange enough that you can dissociate, but not close enough that you can completely empathise. gotham is its own creature.

1.5. i know that the reasoning behind this is more doylist than anything, but i’m so glad that joker was killed off with little fanfare right at the start of the season. he is the one man in the batverse that’s transcended its confines as this sort of ethereal boogeyman/eternal edgelord and to justify his presence in the series would mean giving him this tired, overblown importance and too much of a stab at colourful, tropey “madness” in this otherwise-subdued series. i wish all batmedia would follow suit and get rid of this fucker.

1.75. so jason is bucking scarecrow’s control! or reminding him of who exactly holds all the cards right now. circling back to what i talked about in the last review, it’s remarkable just how little time it’s been since jason’s “death” and he’s already got ‘minions’ and elaborately set up plans to track, break and kill the titans. just how long has he been planning this? when did he first look at WE weapons prototypes and think that’s something i can use to blow somebody up? and the most unsettling question: did he plan his own death at the hands of the joker just so that he could break batman?

at this point it’s obvious that the scarecrow at least started jason down this path, but it’s frightening just how far he’s travelled already.

1.8. aaagh, less than one minute in! i’ll shut up. 

2. conner washing his hands at the sink reminds me that he was directly in the line of explosion when hank got blown up and he’s probably got atomised hank-bits all over his skin that he’s desperately trying to wash off.

... you’re welcome.

2.25. conner, don’t you speak to gar fucking logan like that, sir, no!

2.3. if anything it’s the lex part of him that gave him the knowhow to recognise the weapon and build a de-activator for it. 

anyway, for that ‘half-breed’ and ‘talking tiger’ comment?

(i wish, tho, that we actually see conner more interested in the superman part of his legacy, like maybe listening to stories from gar, or even better, dick, so we get a better idea of the pressure he’s feeling to live up to that part of him and not the part that’s lex.)

((i talked about conner’s stages of moral development in his introductory episode last season, but i wonder if the next stage of his self-actualisation would be to further integrate the parts of himself and realise that they are only parts and he, conner, is an entirely different person unto himself that can make decisions on how to use what he has and what he knows. his superman abilities can be used to destroy. his lex knowledge can be used to save.))

3. oh dawn :((

3.25. is this the last we see of dawn and hank? i mean, we know donna is coming back; would it be a stretch to think they’ll try to have a go at resurrecting hank as well?

3.5. “deathstroke didn’t make us into killers.” good, because deathstroke didn’t make jason a killer either. there’s a missing step there you need to be looking for, dick. 

3.75. dick did try to break the cycle, step away from gotham, run from the possibility that he could turn into batman. it didn’t help; he couldn’t fully withdraw from his vigilante persona the same time he loathed it, and batman literally haunted him both asleep and awake. but maybe gotham doesn’t have to turn anybody into anything. maybe gotham has nothing to do with it at all. it’s about taking responsibility, realising some sacrifices are pure bullshit, and building an actual family instead of merely a team.

anyway: hugs!

(oh, also? mr “i hate flying”? i mean, there’s perfectly valid reasons to hate flying that’s not related to childhood trauma, but then again, this guy was literally a ‘flying grayson’ once. also also, remember that he also gets sea-sick. must’ve a lot of fun stories to tell.)

4. ooh that gar/kory confrontation was brief but cool!

listen, i have never seen a psychiatrist with that extravagant an office and SIR I WOULD LIKE TO KNOW HOW--

4.5. kory’s so unused to reaching out for help and it’s breaking my heart that HPG likely is some kind of impostor that’s maybe causing her symptoms in the first place. 

kory and dick have mostly been apart this season but it’s remarkable how their journeys have paralleled each other; kory processes her grief, isolation and existential dread into a determination to take care of this new family she has, no matter what it takes; dick does much the same, forging ahead with plans and solutions until he has no fuel left in him and spirals into a massive breakdown.

4.25. listen titans this really is a TERRIBLE continuity error. we aren’t goldfish; we can clearly remember that two minutes ago it was gar’s upper arm that was burned, not his forearm. COME ON.

“sensory deprivation tank” *SNORT*

anyway, gar is the BEST

4.5. i wonder where these visions of experimentation took place. was it on tamaran, or on earth, after she came to hunt down rachel/trigon and before she lost all her memories? is HPG a part of the scientist group that experimented on her? ... god, i hope not. i mean, i think he is, but it would be cool to have some positive therapist representation in media. 

5. you’d think the van transporting a dangerous supervillain that only batman could catch would be more secure but... i’m also not entirely surprised. 

5.15. i love dick gives ZERO shits about hiding himself or even ensuring scarecrow is adequately contained. just turns away after kidnapping him in BROAD DAYLIGHT and says ‘let’s go’. I LOVE THIS DUMBASS

6. lmao gar is having a really really shitty day SOMEONE GIVE THIS MAN A BREAK or just a goddamn story arc of his own

6.5. i’m really confused about the timeline here. so... sometime ago, kory came down to earth to hunt down trigon, yeah? at some further point down the line she and her sister were kidnapped and experimented on. THEN she somehow escapes but... loses her memory? a few months pass and then we see blackfire alive and well and free; she kills faddei, can impersonate other people, and is clearly seeking out kory. but now she’s still in the experiment facility...? what’s going on?

i’m not entirely surprised about the facility being mostly deserted. either the biggest investors in this project gave up on it and it was left to the most fanatic to carry on, or they were deliberately trying to lure kory and get her to free blackfire--expand the environs of the experiment, so to speak.

7. hopefully barbara is going to get something to do other than listen to various men give her Attitude

8. how do you terrorise a terrorist? well:

i love when dick is a scary-competent motherfucker.

8.25. ooooh, the attack on crane at arkham a ploy to get crane to blackgate? nice one dick, i didn’t even think of that. but why though? to protect crane from the titans? to intercept the van to blackgate and “rescue” him? seems likely--red hood was there, except dick got to crane quicker.

9. still reeeallly unclear about the komand’r situation. was komand’r captured after s2? is this all A TRAP?? if so, why are you stepping into the only thing that can contain you, kory????

9.25. so... definite parallels between dick/jason and kory/kom here. i’m just. i’m still. really confused. i’ll shut up now.

10. this may be my favourite dick look yet:

woodsman!dick in a beanie.

10.5. i unironically love how titans has made this bizarrely-devoted-to-his-moniker, toxin-spewing supervillain into a tamer version of hannibal, psychoanalysing his victims into submission. it’s of a piece with how inward looking titans is, the way all of its villains are obsessed with how our protagonists’ minds work, to the point where they would actually spend time inside of them. 

there are no big plots to end the world. no apocalypses or endgames here. these villains collect the titans’ insecurities like infinity stones. the way the titans defeat them is by achieving character growth--literally winning by the power of love. literally “the real superpower is the friends we made along the way”!

10.7. anyway, i’m betting dick is used to this bullshit from crane and is humouring him in the service of getting more information. the story about the wolf? an implicit threat, not to mention dick getting to control what crane knows about him and what methods he would use to manipulate him.

am i giving dick too much credit here? i don’t think so. he’s really impressed me so far this season.

10.75. like. there’s a real unreliable narrator vibe coming off with every person that talks about bruce (much like how the various members of the titans talked about jason’s motivations) and to buy into crane’s talk about bruce being a psychopath is to fall for the same manipulation that jason fell for. dick is the only person who hasn’t really psychoanalysed bruce this season, and i think some part of his detective brain is piecing things together into a bigger picture.

11. i’m glad kory rescued kom but did she have to kill the scientist?

(i mean, yeah, probably - the less people know that kom escaped the less likely they’re going to have the fucking govt on their doorstep, but still.)

11.5. dick’s gonna come back to wayne manor, stare straight at komand’r and go, well which room would you like? because the team might as well adopt ANOTHER person, yeah?

12. oh MAN that red hood/nightwing fight was AMAZING! and he did the thing! the boomerang escrima thing! i’m so delighted!

12.5. the anger and disbelief in dick’s voice when he says you told crane EVERYTHING?! tells me that he knew exactly what he was telling crane himself.

12.75. “everything you are is because of him” - oh that reminds me of halluci!bruce from last season. i hope we see halluci!bruce again--he is so vicious but so entertaining... so much more effective at tearing dick down than crane or jason combined. goes to show that dick’s biggest enemy is own fucking head.

12.8. oh no! dick’s shot! crane is in the wind with red hood! blackfire is now with the titans! i love it!

honestly this season’s pacing is such a big step up from the last couple. gold star, show.

[emakenz]

SELF INDULGENT HANNIBAL X READER FANFICTION PROMPT

I do not know what this is, if it is a drabble or a prompt or short story, I have no clue. Just thoughts in my head. Storylines that are realistic within the canon of the show. I say self indulgent because it's sort of a self insert of myself, but whatever, I dunno. It's almost 7 AM. I would actually write this as a story or drabble or whatever but I don't have the drive, if I have a thought I gotta write it down right then or it disappears. If I wrote fanfics, they wouldn't make sense because my mind wanders so fucking much. I might still do this someday, I dunno, but if anyone wants a crack at it, be my guest. I encourage it, as I'd love to read this as an actual story rather than... what it is. But if you write it, ya gotta make sure you include the big details I write down. The small details like, the whole Jack thing, that's not too important unless you want to keep it for showing character and/or character development. And ya gotta credit and tag me because I'd love to read it, as it is my brain's own little bundle of ideas. Holy shit I'm writing so much here goddamn. Anyway.

. . .

Hannibal is reader's friend and he has an interest in reader. Reader is an artist, they work as a forensic artist for the bureau. They do what the usual forensic artist does, but they also like to draw the crime scenes. They have a fascination with recreating the work of a suspect, it can help them connect dots and understand the suspect's intentions and ideals of commiting the scene of the crime. Reader is kind of like Will, in a sense, as they are on the spectrum but, unlike Will, they are unaware of it. They are an empath, they view everything from different perspectives and try to understand each side, like Will. But you see, Will only looks into the suspects' minds, but reader looks into the suspects, the victims, and even the witnesses' views. Hannibal finds their insight to be valuable (for his own "hobbies", in his career, and just plain interest, of course).

Reader has trouble with Jack yelling at them for "talking back," though in reader's mind they didn't realize what they said could be considered rude, and this happens more often than not. They can't handle loud noises, and Jack's booming voice messes them up. They tend to avoid Jack because of this, as they usually have an internal meltdown and shut off when he blows up.

An example; reader was explaining how the victim of the killer in a specific scene wasn't really the victim, but that they were the actual killer. Will disagreed, as he views the suspected killer to be the actual killer. Because of Will's insistence that reader was wrong, Jack shut reader off mid sentence by interrupting their defense. Jack trusts Will's insight more than reader's because he's known him longer and Will's always been right, so far, and he didn't want to risk messing up. He didn't want to get the investigation incorrect so he didn't take the chance of listening to reader rather than Will.

(In this scenario, the killer is the victim in the scene, and the person that killed them was the killer's intended victim, but the victim they intended to kill was a serial killer as well -- the victim pulled the ol switcheroo on em. So both Will and reader are right. If this doesn't make sense, please let me know, I will try to elaborate more on this if you're actually interested.)

Jack and reader don't have a bad relationship or anything, it's just a lot of miscommunications and underlying issues (like the reader having undiagnosed autism, not being aware that they're socially impaired can, well, impair their work and relationships. Such as here.) Nobody really notices the odd behavior from reader, as Will is like that too, so they don't question it. They all assume it's already understood that reader is autistic.

Reader isn't like Will when it comes to being social, as they are more reserved (as odd as that is, MORE reserved than Will Graham himself?? It's more likely than you'd think.) and don't fidget around with stuff around them. They don't nose around, they keep to themselves, closed off from everyone and everything. Will likes to roam around Dr. Lecter's office and tinker with stuff in the room, but reader is too anxious and shy to do such. Reader hates it when people come into their space (like their room, even their property in general) and they especially don't like it when people nose around in their stuff. It feels rude to them, so they don't do it to others. They don't consider Will to be rude because he does it though, they only consider it rude when a person comes into their space and does it, as reader would make it clear that they don't feel comfortable with people doing such. They wouldn't want a person unknowingly seem rude to them, they would inform them beforehand, but if the person still does it, then that's rude to reader. Call it being territorial, reader is just cautious about their property.

If reader is in a conversation, and being asked questions about themself, they usually just give short and simple answers. They don't like to talk about theirself. And they especially don't like letting people know them well. They are very cautious about relationships. They don't want to get hurt. They have a major rejection sensitivity disorder. They hate that about themself.

It's not that reader is cut off from the world and dismissive of others, they do like to talk and joke around occasionally. They're sarcastic yet literal, depending on the topic of conversation. They just don't give more input than they believe necessary. They're more of a listener (by that I mean they space out when a person is excessively talking to them. They can only handle so much.).

Hannibal notices reader's quiet, timid behavior and wants them to find some release, therefore he engages in conversations with them, though it is hard for them to keep the conversation going, he still pushes. He wants them to let loose, to trust him, so he can bond with them. He is aware of reader's autism, but he will only bring it up when he deems it's important. He knows everyone else knows and that reader doesn't, but he wants to see if reader would eventually figure it out on their own (they don't, he brings it up to them eventually). He's also aware that reader has anxiety and ADHD, with the occasional depression and mood swings. Reader is somewhat self aware of those parts of themself though, it's not a big deal. Reader doesn't really care about their mental health until Hannibal comes in and becomes Dr. Lecter to reader. They're not actually his patient but he will treat them as such when he feels they need a therapy session. Reader doesn't like the idea of therapy at all, not for them. Hannibal has to be discreet when getting them to open up. It works sometimes. Other times, reader just changes the subject to avoid the topic of theirself. While Hannibal does still have an interest in Will, reader is more of a craving for Hannibal's appetite. Hannibal sees reader as a rare delicacy that suits his taste, but he never gets enough, and he always wants more. Will can satisfy him in his interest, but reader doesn't give in to him like Will does. Reader is more hesitant, even when they are comfortable. Eye contact never ceases making reader uneasy, they can't hold it more than a few seconds, though Will can hold it as time goes on, reader can't. Will and reader's relationship is close, as reader relates to Will a lot, and vice versa. They connect. Reader likes to help with the dogs and assist in fixing motors and even go fishing with him. They're pretty much best friends. They're more open with Will than anybody else, as much as Hannibal envies Will for that, he also likes to learn about reader from Will. Since reader doesn't really open up to Hannibal willingly and knowingly, he uses Will for information. Will gives him what he wants, it's not a secret that they talk about reader often, it's just that reader doesn't engage in their talks so they make do. Whether Will has a crush on reader is a mystery, reader is unaware and Hannibal wouldn't allow it if he did. Will knows that Hannibal likes reader, he knows that if he had a crush, it's more than likely going to hurt him more than anything. Hannibal often attempts to get reader's attention in different ways, but reader never understands the message is for them. Will knows he can't be honest with reader as he's afraid that reader would feel uncomfortable around him if he did. He doesn't let himself crave reader after seeing Hannibal attempt to ease his own cravings for them, and seeing how that panned out, he knows he doesn't have a chance with reader if Hannibal of all people doesn't. Reader doesn't really... understand romance. They are capable of feeling romantic, but they don't know how to identify their feelings, so emotions are never clear for them. They feel everything but they don't understand anything.

Hannibal does get reader to give in but it takes a lot of time and effort to pry them open. Once reader is bare, they become insecure and vulnerable. They panic and get scared, and shutdown. Hannibal is a therapist and he knows how to handle this, though, and helps reader. He becomes their guide. Reader thrives off of independence but Hannibal slowly takes their need of independence away, having reader rely on him more and more. It makes him feel powerful. His cravings are nourished at this point in time, he's more addicted than ever, and reader is the center of his world. I guess you could say Hannibal is yandere-esque, not my intention but that's the vibes I'm getting from this. He's overprotective and possessive of reader once he has them under his wing.

What attracts Hannibal to reader is the same reason he's interested in Will. He enjoys having someone clever enough to understand him, to climb over his tall walls. Reader doesn't mean to do this, reader just sees him, and unlike Will, accepts him immediately. Reader never disliked Hannibal, reader's just cautious, as I've stated time and time again. Something about reader's mix of strong empathy but lack of understanding compels Hannibal. Reader sees and infers well enough (guessing close enough to what others think) but they can't really grasp it and latch onto it for theirself. They can't understand the feelings, but they can guess on them, and they can sure as hell feel em. They have trouble explaining stuff to others, and they try to always compare something to something else. They see something as a different thing than what others see. (An example, reader sees the shape and color and texture of a giant hotpocket in the ground, while others see a patch of dirt where grass hasn't grown) (I don't mean they literally see a hot pocket but they make the connection that it looks like a hot pocket) (that example is specific, as it is personal experience LMFAO)

This being said, they can be wrong a lot of the time when they try to infer a killer's intentions, as they sometimes just can't see the intentions being anything else than what they see. They have to rely on others for reference, to mimic their thinking patterns and then make a final guess at the killer's intentions. That's why Will and them connect so easily, as Will usually thinks straight AND helps reader figure it out in their own view. They help the team with investigations for other perspectives while Will helps with the "finalized" guess on the case. If this doesn't make sense, I can give another example, as I don't really know how else to word this. I doubt anyone will actually read any of this and I'm fine with that, I'm just rambling about my ideas. I swear to god though, if someone takes this idea without credit (in general, like the big picture of it) I will cry so so hard you will drown in my tears. Deadass.

Enjoy my rambles ig :)

[k-s-morgan]

What would you say would be the great but rarely used, mentioned (?) Will's quotes about Hannibal that show his depth of feeling for him and show that Will does love Hannibal. I know the most frequently used ones, but what do you think are the underappreciated moments?

What a great question! Here are the ones I recall and that I rarely see mentioned. If anyone who’s reading this can think of more, please share them too! 

You’re supposed to be my paddle. It’s said at the very start of S1, and it shows the trust Will already puts into Hannibal, which is amazing, considering how hostile he is to people in general and especially to psychiatrists.

I don't know what's worse. Believing I did it or believing you did it... and did this to me. I felt so betrayed by you … I trusted you. I needed to trust you. Will is playing on Hannibal’s emotions here, but I think what he says is absolute truth. He sounds so wistful and sad - he really feels all this. It’s not the idea of Hannibal being a murderer that hit him hard, it’s that Hannibal betrayed him.

You've never condemned me. Not even under oath. You've always been my friend. Same here: he’s playing Hannibal, but what he says rings true. There is once again wistfulness in Will’s voice - Hannibal was his friend and it meant the world to him, but now he doesn’t know what to think. He doesn’t understand why Hannibal is trying to help him after putting him in prison.

I have to deal with you. And my feelings about you. Sounds so deeply personal and romantic, in my opinion.

I envy you your hate. Makes it much easier when you know how to feel. Will confessing to Peter that he can’t hate Hannibal no matter what he did, and hence he can’t bring himself to kill him even now.

Where else would I go? This is so striking - Will confessing that Hannibal is the only person he can confide to, his safety net and in a way,  his home.

Will: I tried to murder Dr. Lecter.

Margot: Did he have it coming?

Will: What do you think?

Margot: Can't say that I know.

Will: Neither can I. - This is a lot, coming from Will. Hannibal betrayed him, killed Abigail, murdered who knows how many innocent people, including Beverly, and yet Will isn’t sure Hannibal deserved having Matthew sent after him.

Hannibal is good enough for you. Considering the context and the emphasis he makes when he spits these words at Alana, he’s jealous, and this jealousy is about Hannibal and his affections. 

Could you be happy there? This is what Will asks when Hannibal tells him that if he’s ever arrested, he’ll be living in his Mind Palace. It’s such a simple but powerful question because Will knows Hannibal might end up arrested because of him, and he’s worried about his happiness. He needs to hear that Hannibal won’t be miserable. 

Hannibal: You would deny me my life.

Will: Not your life, no. - Will is no longer capable of killing Hannibal, and it’s important for him to make Hannibal understand this. 

We have a mutually unspoken pact to ignore the worst of one another in order to continue enjoying the best. - Almost a love confession, the same one as “Because he was my friend and because I wanted to run away with him.”

Now, the entire brilliant Primavera is a big and loud love letter from Will to Hannibal. Here are my favorite quotes (I’m changing pronouns in Will’s discussions with fake!Abigail because he’s talking to himself there).

He left me to die... But I didn't. He was supposed to take me with him. We were all supposed to leave together. He made a place for us. Why did I lie to him? The wrong thing being the right thing to do was too ugly a thought. He gave me a chance to take it all back, and I just kept lying. He wants me to find him. After everything he's done, I would still go to him? Yes. - You can see his mental struggle, him being torn between love, guilt, and resentment. 

Later:

This is what Hannibal sees when he steps inside the frescoed walls of his own mind ...But this isn't Hannibal, it's just where he begins. Beyond this, far and complex, light and dark, is the vast structure of his mind. A thousand rooms, miles of corridors. Everything he remembers, wonderfully and fearfully reconstructed. Hannibal is well armed against the physical world, but there are places within himself he can't safely go. But I can. If I find them. And that's how I'll find him. - Will is so incredibly reverent and admiring here, I love it.

I do feel closer to Hannibal here. God only knows where I would be without him ... I still want to go with him? Yes. - This says everything: Will acknowledges how crucial Hannibal is for him, how he can’t imagine himself without him now, and how much he craves his presence.

Will: You couldn't catch him when he was just a kid, what makes you think you're going to catch him now?

Pazzi: You.

A small, polite scoff from Will, unable to take his eyes off the small stairwell to the catacombs.

Will: What makes you think I want to catch him? ...  You don’t know whose side I’m on. - Will openly admitting to a police officer that he’s siding with Hannibal.

Hannibal... I forgive you. - One of the most heartfelt things Will has ever said to him.

Chiyoh: How do you know Hannibal?

Will: One could argue, intimately. - This come across as Will flaunting their relationship to Chiyoh, who he perceives as a possible threat.

A part of me will always want to [slip away with Hannibal]. - I’m forever amazed at the things Will keeps saying to Jack.

Please. You need to get over yourself, whatever self this is, Bedelia. You expect us to believe you somehow got lost in the hot darkness of Hannibal Lecter's mind? - I seriously can’t believe Will said this. Could he sound any more jealous?

You helped Mason Verger find us. - I love how he refers to them as a team in front of Alana, even though Hannibal literally tried to saw his head open when they were found. Sounds like Will is resentful of the fact that they were interrupted o_O 

I have to see Hannibal. Very simple words said to Jack in E8, but their meaning and the way Will phrased it... Will doesn’t need Hannibal’s help with the case, we know it because we saw him easily reconstruct the crime hours before that. But he’s not even really hiding it well! He doesn’t say, “I have to discuss this with Hannibal,” he says, “I have to see him.” There is a palpable difference between the two.

All conversations with Bedelia, but especially this jealous gem:

Poor Dr. Du Maurier, swallowed whole. Suffering inside Hannibal Lecter's bowels for what must have felt like an eternity. You didn't lose yourself, Bedelia, you just crawled so far up his ass you couldn't be bothered ... Have you been to see him? 

In the next conversation again:

Will: Have you had any contact with him? -  Jealous Will is the best.

I'm not fortune's fool. I'm yours. Will looks at Hannibal, clearly expecting him to react to his teasing, and then he’s so affronted when Hannibal ignores him.

The divine punishment of the sinner mirrors the sin being punished. Chilton languished unrecognized until Hannibal the Cannibal. He wanted the world to know his face. (And now he doesn’t have any). - This sounds like Chilton was Will’s courting gift to Hannibal. Instead of choosing more valid reasons for his actions, he focused on Chilton’s desire for popularity and him mocking Hannibal. 

Hannibal said those words. To me. - Will is so proud to be seen as worthy by Hannibal, and he can’t help but throw it into Francis’ face.

Hannibal: Save yourself, kill them all?

Will: I don't know if I can save myself. And maybe that’s just fine. - To me, this sounds like Will confesses he doesn’t know if he can “kill them all”, meaning Hannibal first and foremost, and that at this point, he doesn’t even mind. The long stare their exchange afterward speaks volumes about their feelings.

[jaynovz]

tell us more abt the hannibal and black sails parallels pls

Okay, first off, I am so sorry this took so long!! I’ve been moving and shit has been so busy.

Second, yay!! This question. Now I have an excuse to ramble.

Okay so, the two shows do have a lot of similarities. The big one you notice right off the bat is that both have an extremely codependent relationship at the center. 

There are a ton of ways the Flint-Silver and Hannibal-Will relationships parallel, like, they both talk about melding minds with another person, being monstrous, reveling in being monstrous, being made complete by an unlikely source, personas/playing roles/person suits, knowing yourself more completely next to another person, darkness as a source of freedom, something beyond choice/being drawn inexorably into a person’s destructive orbit and being forever changed by it. They deal with the nature of truth, both have supernatural elements, both have religious imagery connected to one half of the ship (Flint and Hannibal both compared to god). 

Also, both shows end with an impossible choice and, ostensibly, tragedy; and they both have open endings that are interpretable based on what you want to believe. 

But at a certain point, the similarities end and the two shows veer off from each other. Namely, the dynamics between the two ships are fundamentally different in a lot of ways, and it's more interesting to look at the ways in which they don't parallel. At the end of the day, the biggest one is that Silverflint is not anywhere near as destructive, whereas for Hannigram, mutual self-destruction is sort of the name of the game. Silverflint may be as codependent but I think the important addition of either Madi or Thomas or (ideally) both, helps make the relationship a lot healthier. If they would actually just talk to each other and work some shit out, it could be great. This is of course contingent on whether you think one or the other could compromise. (The compromise being that they come to some middle ground between Flint giving up the big picture Cause for personal happiness, or Silver throwing in genuinely with the idea of revolution and it being worth the risk of the people most important to him.) The end tragedy of Black Sails sets us in a spot where it doesn’t seem like either Flint or Silver are willing to do so, but perhaps one or the other could grow and change (with helpful mediation, as stated.)

Whereas Hannigram, well. It’s rooted from the very beginning in gaslighting, manipulation, and a completely skewed power balance. It’s absolutely like, this person has done so much bad shit to you, they’ve killed people you love, they’ve sent people to kill you, they’ve lied to you, isolated you, made you fundamentally doubt what kind of person you are etc. But still, you literally can’t cut them out of your life because nothing is ever going to compare to the experience of having them around even if it’s, most often, largely a negative influence. Like, damn. So dark, so unhealthy. They’re the zero-sum game. 

For Will it’s: you love this terrible, terrible thing and you hate yourself for loving it, but also can’t deny it and it makes you feel alive. And for Hannibal, Will’s really the only person who can understand and accept him, but also is uniquely positioned to be able to lie to him, manipulate him in return, and be his utter ruin. They both tried to cut each other out and it didn’t work. So, can’t live with him and can’t live without him. That’s why we end with a cliff dive (impossible choice), Will can’t abide the thought that this thing that is objectively terrible, this ugly thing, is the thing he wants desperately, but he also can’t give it up. So it’s like, “let me try to do my last little bit to society by throwing both our asses off of this cliff b/c we’re both terrible.” Will is so interesting b/c he is at all times living in both the dark and the light and has trouble reconciling these opposing drives. It’s a function of his magic empathy.

(I think they’re metaphorical cliffs also b/c like.... there are no cliffs in Maryland jsyk. What is it with these shows that I like and Metaphorical Cliffs. Edit: I have been corrected there are some cliffs in Maryland but they're not as absurdly high as the ones in Hannibal.)

Anyway, let’s do the one-to-one and talk about Empathy and my Mirrorball boys first. Silver and Will are both extremely good at reading people, seeing what they most need to be, and shapeshifting into it. They both have the ability to shrug on different personas as easy as changing clothes. HOWEVER, the way in which they view this ability is very different. For Will, it’s a curse, he literally cannot turn it off, can’t stop himself from doing it, and it torments him. And I think for Silver, he also does it unconsciously and can’t help himself, but it’s not a torment in the same way. It’s rooted in survival and is an acquired skill that a very intelligent mind learned in order to stay alive. Though I would say they could commiserate on their mirrorball tendencies getting them into trouble/in over their heads.

As for Flint and Hannibal parallels? Well Hannibal is the unrepentant monster who revels in wickedness and largely views the rest of humanity as inferior. He’s having an absolutely excellent time murdering and cannibalizing folks, and the only real thorn in his side is Will Graham and his inability to kill Will b/c Hannibal loves him. 

I think Hannibal is the absolute beast that Flint fears himself to be. And though both are presented as the “destructive orbit” or “intoxicating presence” and both perpetrate great violence... well they’re on opposite ends of the spectrum as far as how they view those behaviors. Flint is drowning in guilt constantly, hates that he has to be this monster, the persona of the dread pirate Captain, and that he’s losing more and more of his humanity every time he does some heinous shit. Whereas Hannibal is a “happy little duckling,” literally feels zero guilt about his heinous acts. Hannibal’s playacting a real man in a lot of ways while Flint is playacting a monster. So, Flint wears a monster suit and Hannibal wears a person suit.

Anyway, I could go on and on about this. The way they use supernatural elements, the way characters embed multiple meanings in subtextual dialogue, how well quotes from Silverflint can transfer to Hannigram and vice versa. Oh the way each show deals with like, queer issues, disability issues. etc etc ad infinitum

But I’ll let this be it for now, lol. If you wanna hear me ramble more, let me know~

THANKS AGAIN FOR ASKING. 

[ofmermaidstories]

I ttly get you on the the cannibalism thing, it's not really my thing but i also think it's such a cool narrative device for the act of consuming and being consumed, be it by feelings positive or negative or any other thing that significantly takes over our lives! Or just for horror sometimes, it depends on the story really sfdsfs It really would depend on what you'd want to do with it really ill read whatyou dish out, i get not wanting to do something that is completely depressing i don't mind a bad ending if that's what the story needs for whatever reason. I dunno what your threshold would be for that though but if mc gets to do a good "if i go i take you with me you assface" it's depressing but enough for me, or maybe "my sacrifice will help whoever tries to solve this situation after me", like a Rogue One situation. The torture porn that ppl are into most of the time and i don't personally like is stories where the mc has no agency whatsoever during the whole thing and doesn't even get revenge in the end, which i think is kinda the point for people who like it (the extreme power imbalance, submissive helpless mc, etc) i'm just too petty for it like sure i wanna suffer but i want to Win in some way in the end. In any case, when it comes to cannibalism i don't often read it unless it's just part of a story im interested in, atm i only remember one recent example of a short little story i liked about a mermaid, so maybe you'll like it? (https://rotworld.tumblr.com/post/188689800352/day-24-feast) (in case u dont wanna read it because of the thang: a village has a yearly tradition of eating mermaid flesh to increasy longevity, so they keep one around too weak to escape n carve her up evey year in the festival to eat it's flesh until they have to catch another. Mc decides to offer themself to the mermaid to eat so that she has enough strenght to escape. At the end the mermaid tells them that flesh from a mermaid freely given gives some type of immortality too, and gives a pieace of herself to mc and boh escape towards the ocean with a little bit of revenge on the side)

PART II:

(also fair warning: while the mermaid story has a happy ending, almost all of rotworld's stories and drabbles have bad ends besides other disturbing themes, so this one is more of an exception than a rule, just in case anyone's thinking of cheking their stuff out, they put warnings!)

Do you have that one thing that, whether it’s rational or irrational, fills you with both revulsion and anger every time you see it? Because I do. And for me it’s this oil painting: Saturn Devouring His Son.

Francisco José de Goya y Lucientes you are my arch nemesis, and I will meet you in Hell old man.

(‼️📍 cw/tw: cannibalism. it’s cannibalism. if you’ve made it this far it’s quite clearly cannibalism. 📍‼️)

How I feel about that hateful painting is how I feel about cannibalism in general LMAO. In poetry? Amazing, 10/10. As a metaphor? Perfect, incredible, 10/10 of ten? An actual act where one human being devours another? NO. And yet—it literally never stops me from interacting with media that features it??? I read the google preview for Tender is the Flesh which was like, a good 30 pages and was… yeah. Yeah. The only reason I didn’t finish it was because my local library doesn’t have a copy and I didn’t want to spend money buying a book and keeping it my home when the very idea of it threw me into such a turmoil that I couldn’t eat meat for a week LMAO. The only other story that’s had that same power over me was Neil Gaiman’s short story for PETA (“Babycakes”. I read it on the train home years ago and was so upset I had to call someone and be talked off the metaphorical ledge). And yet!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Like??????????? Hannibal is one of my favourite TV shows—I bought the damn series on youtube!!!—and Silence of the Lambs is one of my favourite movies!!!!!! Attack on Titan??? One of my favourite animes precisely because of the horror.

I couldn’t tell you what the difference is. Maybe it’s that Tender was written by a woman who eventually stopped eating meat herself. I used to follow the chef that worked on Hannibal, here on tumblr, and reading her thoughts about like, how to replicate certain cuts of long-pork with real pork (or beef or whatever) was always fascinating. It has never had the same kind of horrified chokehold on me and oh my god i can feel myself spiralling LMAO i hate it here (it’s fine, im fine).

ANYWAYS, the Moonfish idea I threw out in the open was a random one, because to me Dark Content should cover topics that are unsettling, and unsettling for me is the horrific idea that you might come face-to-face with your end and can see it clearly and know—it’s gonna be slow, and it’s gonna be awful. The inescapable horror of both your mortality and pain.

(And also it’s mainly because my other favourite genre to read is Whump, and I really like the idea of taking whatever fave character we have atm and fridging the love of their life LOL i’m sorry, im no better than a man……. murdering the love interest for male motivation 😔🔫 it’s probably never going to happen, it’s just gonna be a horrible little AU that sits in my brain and rots me from the inside out, it’s fine, this is fine)

Idk, Spookies, I agree with you that if you’re gonna read something as heavy as devouring then like, there needs to be some kind of emotional pay off, even if it’s vindication or melancholy. I’d argue that’s especially important in a POV as intimate as second-person!!! You’re right in there in the trenches—if you’re being dragged through the mud boots first then like, you need some kind of satisfaction. I read the rotworld fic you linked—rotworld is a lovely writer, and I felt nothing but dread the entire way through that piece 🥺 Hopefully both of them are happy, out there in the ocean somewhere.

(i think im gonna make a salad tomorrow night… with lots of croutons and absolutely no seafood or meat. i hope your weekend treats you gently, Spookies 🌷✨🍐)

[voxofthevoid]

Taking It Up The Ass Isn’t Character Growth - A Rant

So, in response to an ask a while back, I said I had a rant brewing on fandom and sex positions, and well, a lot of you wanted to see it, so here you go. You literally asked for it.

Disclaimer: This is going to talk a lot about top/bottom roles in slash fic and fandom attitude towards them and is heavily filtered through the lens of my own tastes and experiences with fandom. I’d also like to be upfront that I am 100% in favor of people writing whatever fictional content they want, and it’s not what fandom does with characters that bothers me but rather how that translates into attitudes towards real, live people. Also, this is the essay version of a slow burn AU because I regurgitate my entire fandom history before getting to the point. Beware.

I discovered fan-fiction around a decade ago, had no clue what the hell it was, got hooked and dived deeper. I started participating in fandom circa 2013, and I was fairly young and also completely inexperienced both sexually and romantically. The fandom in question was Hannibal and my ship of choice was Hannibal/Will. It was/is a very chill fandom in general, but we had our drama. And chief among the contentious topics was—you guessed it—the top/bottom debate. I can’t actually remember any other topic that was discussed and argued for so ardently in that fandom, at least in those days. Even after I drifted away, I came across a few posts on the matter.

Generally, you had two camps—people who supported strict roles and those who were in favor of switching*. And because we’re a society plagued by illogical assumptions, the strict role camp mostly had people who thought Mr. Big Bad Cannibal in the Fancy Suits wouldn’t take it up the ass because he’s older, more experienced, more mentally stable, and of course, more ‘dominant’ in personality. Yes, that sentence is chock full of problematic shit. I am aware. Lots of people were aware and argued strongly against attributing top/bottom roles to personality. I don’t remember anyone arguing as enthusiastically for Top Will, but those voices were also there. But the general idea was that assigning strict top/bottom roles to a male/male couple was casting them in a heterosexual mold and thus, the progressive option was to make them switch. Strict roles also garnered comparisons to “yaoi” and uke/seme stereotypes, which was of course bad and fetishizing and we, the Western media fans, of course had to do better. Stealth racism is fun to untangle.

Anyway, I lapped up the woke juice. Partly because I was a baby queer from Buttfuck Nowhere, Asia, who had zero exposure to LGBT+ communities and what queer folks did with each other. Partly because it was the stance taken by most of my favorite writers so it seemed like a good position to emulate.

Emulate it I did. Most discussions I had about this happened in private with the handful of close friends I had in fandom. Where it really showed was in my writing. I made sure to write switching—maybe not in every fic, but then I alternated between fics. Thing is though, I did have a preference. I liked Top Will. I created and consumed a ton of Top Hannibal, and sometimes it was okay, sometimes it was not, but I couldn’t pinpoint why it made me uncomfortable. Back then, I thought I was a cis questioning/bi girl and once again, the impression I got was that not being MLM, having a preference was automatic fetishization. So I tried my best to justify my preferences, to my friends at least. I think what I said was that fandom was skewed towards Top Hannibal, and I liked the opposite because I’m a contrary fuck. Which I am, to be fair, but this was just me desperately trying to figure shit out without being offensive.

That’s the line I touted all the way until 2018, which was when I fucked off to grad school in A City, finally freed of Buttfuck Nowhere and able to actually date. At this point, I was settled in my sexuality (girls only) and questioning my gender (non-binary or trans guy). I had also tentatively figured out during undergrad that I’m an exclusive top and a Dom. Actual attempts at dating cemented that, yes, those are my preferences, about as flexible as a steel rod. Cue motherfucking epiphany over my fanfic tastes.

And see, over these years, I was engaging intermittently with fandom. I dutifully wrote switch couples. I also continued to have rigid tastes and continued to explain it away as being a contrary fuck—to be fair, until Steve/Bucky, my preference did seem to be the opposite of the larger fandom preference. But correlation, as we know, isn’t causation. Until Steve/Bucky, I continued to write versatile couples because I honestly didn’t have the guts to just say I liked it just one way. I do now but even then, I feel compelled to add that it’s because I want to see my own taste reflected in fic, so I write/read the character I relate to as a top, it's not that deep etc. Would I be as forthright if I didn’t have that reason? Would I have such strict preferences in fic if I didn’t have strict preferences IRL? The latter’s a mystery, but the former isn’t—I wouldn’t be because fandom is still entrenched in the same ideas that got me to this point to begin with.

In every fandom I’ve been in, I’ve seen some version of this debate go around. Sometimes, it’s one party saying “why would you write Character X as a bottom, he’s so Reason A” and a reblog chain that insults the OP and/or extols the virtues of switching. Sometimes, it’s a general-ish message that says they don’t understand why people have strict preferences when we all know real gay couples switch. Sometimes, it’s blanket statements that accuse anyone with preferences of fetishizing. Sometimes, it’s the same reasoning that gets you “Character Y is a top because of Reason B” transposed on versatile couples except this takes the form of “they switch because they’re equals.”

Ya’ll, I’m fucking tired.

I have long since lost count of the number of stories I’ve seen where an exclusive top learning bottom and liking it is character growth. Where a character who prefers to bottom taking a turn on top is empowering.

Isolated, these are fine. But I’ve seen enough of such stories that it’s distinctly discomfiting and a major squick. Sometimes a trigger, if I'm too immersed in the story. I’m not going to try and burn an author at the stake because they pissed me off. I am just going to close that window and quietly handle my shit. People can write whatever they want. But this one theme hits too close to home, as you can see from this 1.6k rant.

My friend (also my ex-girlfriend) and I had an all-out bitching session about this the other day. Both of us are kinky fuckers who have rigid, complementary roles we prefer and we have both had our grueling days of struggling to reconcile our sexual tastes with our ideologies precisely because of how these things are frowned upon in conservative and progressive circles. Seeing that in fandom, of all places, is both insulting and exhausting. Topping and bottoming aren’t personality traits. Neither is D/s. It’s sexual preference and power play. It really does not have to be that deep. I am not exorcising childhood trauma using the bodies of women. My partners, former and current, have not been brainwashed by the patriarchy. We will not become better, more complete individuals once I magically stop being a stone top and my partners embrace the joys of a strap-on.

I have, with my own two eyes, seen someone say that in a really committed relationship, of course the couple will switch.

Bullshit.

It’s transparent bullshit. This does not get attributed to cisgender M/F couples. Even when the automatic assumptions of woman = bottom and man = top get addressed, switching isn't presented as the default. No one’s saying “oh, if you really love your husband, you’ll peg him”. I do know butch/femme sapphic couples get their own share of shit. Because it’s all heteronormativity, right? Can’t have any other reason for top/bottom roles.

You have two extremes with “so who’s the woman” on one end and “it’s woke only if they switch” on the other, and as far as I’m concerned, they’re equally damaging. There shouldn’t be a pressure, however subtle, to conform your taste in fiction to some arbitrary idea of progressiveness. People are going to like whatever they want anyway; all this does is create an atmosphere where those likes can’t always be freely expressed without a lot of mental gymnastics. We’re seeing so many versions of this in the pushback against so-called problematic content, but smaller, subtler versions exist too.

Fictional characters aren’t real. They can be whatever you want them to be. And yes, other people will often want them to be the exact opposite of your ideas, but that’s just how things work. Meanwhile, the people behind these usernames? They’re real. No one should be throwing real people under the bus to ‘protect’ characters that don’t exist. Hannibal Lecter doesn’t care whether he gets fucked or dismembered in Author B’s fanfiction, but the discourse that surrounds the dick up his ass? That does affect flesh and blood people.

I am not claiming that this is the only attitude in fandom. Middlegrounds do exist. Plenty of people abide by fic and let fic and there are folks who pipe up to say not every RL queer couple switches. But it’s often the extremes that reach most people. That was certainly my experience, and I’m not the only one.

I don’t really know how to end this post. It is 100% a rant and one that’s been building up for a while. Bottom line is that people’s sexual behavior varies wildly and whenever you attack sexual tastes in fanfic by saying it’s unrealistic - or worse because let’s be real, that’s a very tame word choice - please remember that there’s likely someone out there who practices it.

* I’m using switch and versatile synonymously in this post. It’s mostly concerned with top/bottom debates. A lot of what I’m saying is also echoed in portrayals of and discussions surrounding D/s dynamics, but I’m not addressing that as much for now.  

[scribble-scrabbles]

{WP} Elements of a History Professor

Based on a reddit writing prompt. Part of a larger universe I am working on.

[WP] You are a powerful ancient wizard, masquerading as an unassuming, friendly and senile history teacher. But when a supervillain threatens your school, they learn to never underestimate senior citizens.

The wizened old woman had to sit in the front of the classroom nowadays, her bones were too sore to stand for the full day any longer. But she still loved teaching and would gladly do this for years to come, just to see the spark come into another student’s eye as they learned about Alexander the Great or Hannibal and his elephants. She patted her silver white hair, making sure every strand was secure in her bun, while her high school students strolled in, laughing and talking among themselves. They regarded her as a kind old eccentric, and often tried to get her onto tangents talking about the “forgotten stories” of history, that her students believed she concocted on the spot. She smiled to herself, thinking “If they only knew.” 

The bell rang and the students continued to chat among themselves, as they often did in the period directly before lunch time. Ms. Green shifted herself, spine cracking dryly, to casually look out the window and into the beautiful spring day. She felt the light playing along her skin and smiled, and as she did the students began to quiet down. She took a deep breath, as though breathing in the warmth of the city below, and turned to smile at her class. They quieted to silence. 

“Now, who can tell me where we were after last class?” she said, her old voice cracking with age and use. 

One of her favorite students, a boy a bit too small for his age with shining blond hair raised his hand and was beginning to speak when there was a loud pop pop pop noise from outside, followed by a deafening roar. Ms. Green, or Theresa to her friends, snapped to attention, standing from her chair faster than any of her students would have considered possible, if they had been paying her any attention. The students closest to the windows were already exclaiming in fright and awe, as plumes of fire rose into the beautiful blue sky. Theresa hurried to the window, cursing the arthritis in her hips, and stared, dumbfounded, at the scene unfolding below. 

This particular high school was situated just across the street from a bank, which now stood unrecognizable in a pillar of smoke and flames. Theresa’s eyes were drawn to a small figure robed in black, backing away from the building, a large backpack slung over one shoulder and flames shooting out of his hands, feeding the fire as he fled. She felt the power rolling off of him, and it felt wrong somehow. Not just angry but tinged around the edges with something that felt black and corrupted. She felt a shiver run up her spine as she explored that corruption and realized that it almost felt like something was helping him, or controlling him. This was no ordinary fire mage, and something was very, very wrong. 

“Get away from the windows.” Ms. Green said, her voice firm. The class obeyed, but she stood her ground, watching the figure as two police cars already appeared on scene. He turned to the cars, bringing his hands together before throwing a large, molten ball of fire into the car closest to him. It exploded just as he was bringing his hands around to form another for the other car. You’re much too old for this, Theresa, let it be. Her fingers popped as she curled them into fists at her sides. Unless he threatens the students you can just let it be. She felt her power there, just on the edge of her senses, and willed it away. It had been centuries since she had touched it, just so she could feel herself grow old as the mortals did and experience history the way the mortals always would. All she had to do was ignore it and these centuries would not have been wasted. All the figure below had to do was turn and run the other way. But she knew, deep down in her ancient bones, that was not the way it would happen today. She was not meant to ignore her calling forever. And she could not let these students, her students, suffer the wrath of this wild little fire mage. 

The fire mage turned and ran towards the school building as more police cars began pouring into the street. Theresa turned and ran to the door. 

“Out! Down the back stairway. Run, and don’t stop. He may set this whole building ablaze.” She waited until her students were all safely out the door, and then she hurried to the front steps to meet this little vagabond who had disturbed her centuries of rest. She twisted and cracked her neck as she reached for the power she had kept locked away for far too long, feeling it rush into her veins and restoring her strength. The earth began to tremble beneath her, as she took the stairs two at a time, redirecting anyone as she went to the back stairs of the building and telling them to run. One student, a clever girl from her first period World History class, stopped to gape at her and she pushed her back towards the crowd, ushering her to go. She smiled, knowing that the tendrils of power she drew on were already reversing her wrinkles and returning color to her hair.

She saw him then, wearing a plain black cloak that anyone could get from a party store. Underneath he wore jeans and worn out sneakers, and she thought she spied a flame of red hair underneath the hood. Fire crackled between his hands as he sent small wisps of flame out to lick and scare the children closest to him.  Rage boiled through Theresa and the ground rumbled.

“ENOUGH!” she bellowed, and thick green vines shot from the floor and grasped the villain’s hands, anchoring him to the spot. “You will leave this school and my students alone, child, or you will regret the day you were born.” Her voice growled and echoed around the hall, despite the noise and confusion of the running students. Everyone halted to look at her in bewilderment. The robed man laughed and shook the hood free from his tangled red hair, a sneer across his sharp, pointed face. “Cute trick, grandma.” He sneered, fire leaping from him to burn her vines to ash. “But I’m not going anywhere. And I don’t think an old lady like you can do much to stop me, despite your cute parlor tricks.” Flames encircled him, popping and cracking, as he drew a ball of fire into his hands and hurled it towards her face. A pillar of stone rose in front of her and the fireball struck, sizzling to nothing. “Oh, my dear.” She said, waving her hand and turning the pillar to dust that began to orbit around her slowly. The ground beneath them shifted and moved, pushing the students out of the line of fire and building a barrier between them and the coming fight. “You have no idea who you’ve crossed.” 

“I think I can handle an old earth mage.” 

She waved her hands and the earth moved beneath her, cracking the floor of the school into long shards that she brought up to orbit around her. Crystals coalesced out of the ground, and she took one into her hand, letting the others float beside her. He closed her eyes and breathed, loving the feel of power coursing through her and wondering how she had gone without it for so long. Her young opponent took that moment to strike, but her dust cloud merged into a shield, easily deflecting the flames that seemed to be growing deeper red. He snarled at her, stepping closer, and she shot a dart of flooring towards him, a warning shot more than an outright attack. He dodged and continued towards her, hands outstretched and she felt the heat trying to melt her shield of rock into lava. 

“Clever.” she smiled, pulling the particles apart and dissipating the heat. He growled and pushed his flames forwards, surprising her. She formed a shield of crystal, but not before the flames licked at her skirts and burned her ankles. She cursed in surprise and rocked the ground beneath him, making him fall and causing all of the fire to die. Before he could rise, she formed a cage around him, bars of stone and bits of concrete, hewn in haste. He shot a bolt of darkening flame between the bars, and she dodged. She was beginning to get a better feel of his power now, but also the corruption, playing at the edges of his spells.  Probing it gave her a sick feeling in her stomach. 

He shot more fire towards her, a deep burgundy red and she began to turn the bars of his cage into walls. All she had to do was keep him contained long enough for the children to get to safety and the police to come into the building. She didn’t have to fight him. Fighting was not much in her nature, after all. Earth was an element of peace and healing, and she hated the idea of killing a child, especially one who may not be acting of just his own influence. 

The cage exploded and the mage stood, bellowing, darkening fire licking every inch of his body. He snarled at her and threw flames towards her in a wild, barely controlled wave. She cursed again and threw a whirling gale of rock and debris towards him, striking him and hurling him to the ground. The corruption at the edges of his power had grown rapidly, turning his flames from orange to red to nearly black. Her mind whirled, thinking of what could possibly be exerting that much control in such a small span of time, and she didn't like her options.

She threw out a hand and raised an earth elemental, the size of a large human, and sent it lumbering towards him. Vines sprouted from the ground, entangling his feet and grasping for his arms as he raised his hand and black fire appeared at her feet. She growled and pushed the earth beneath her to hurl her away from the flames, turning her hands and willing poison into her vines. A paralytic and a mild sedative, she thought, nothing too potent now. He gasped and writhed, setting black flame to the vines and struggling free. The elemental pounded on his arms, destroying the fire and breaking his hands as he gave an agonized scream. Theresa felt the last of his fire magic give way to the corruption beneath. Darkness flowed from his fingers, thick and swirling, moving towards her like snakes. She sucked in a breath and shot herself into the sky on a pillar of rubble and vines. This was very, very bad.

The mage rose, dark flames pouring out of him, turning her elemental into molten sludge. He roared in rage, ignoring his broken fingers and sending flames and darkness hurtling towards her, his eyes as black as night. She dropped the pillar, cushioning her fall, then throwing her hands up to form a crystal shell around herself as the dark amalgam poured over her.  She stared at the boy, knowing that whatever corruption he had played with had now consumed him entirely. He wasn't a mage anymore, but a monster, fire and dark, slithering tendrils pouring off of him like water and inundating her bubble of protection. 

Her mind raced, thinking of various ways of disabling him without killing him, when she saw a tendril of darkness slip around the barrier and grap a student around the middle and lift her into the air. More tendrils shot towards the barriers, and Theresa stopped thinking. 

In a rush of rage, she rose two enormous stone giants beside the mage and raised their fists to smash him. He dropped the students and redirected his attacks to the two elementals, darkness and flames swirling around them. She pushed the ground beneath him, launching him into the air, then drew it away suddenly, watching him plummet to the ground. Vines and thorns burst through the earth, ensnaring him and pushing poison into his veins. They pulled and tore at him, as the elementals raised their fists again and brought them down, hurling him to the ground. The vines held him fast as the fists came down again and again, dust billowing out around them. Theresa held up her hands and they stopped, as she slowly approached the writhing mass of vines, now coated with dark and spreading blood. 

Sightless, black eyes stared up as she withdrew the vines and they slithered back into the earth. Theresa shuddered, kneeling beside the corpse and feeling for a pulse, then for breath. She surveyed his broken body and felt a wave of sorrow wash over her, pricking tears into her eyes. 

A flash of movement caught her eye, and she watched with growing dread as the last few tendrils of darkness dripped from his broken fingers, scattering amongst the smoke and ashes. A black substance oozed like blood out of one ear, and was coagulating on the ground, stretching towards her where she knelt. She leapt up, face twisted in revulsion as it also began to smoke and dissipate. 

With a final shudder, she turned and began walking towards the side entrance of the school. She wasn't sure what exactly she had witnessed, but she knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, she must find her sisters. Without meeting anyone's eyes, she strode out into the chaos of the street and let herself disappear. 

[pianomanblaine]

Killing Me Softly

He could have spent an eternity envisioning his own death and it still would not have prepared him for this.

Written for  @timebird84 ‘s Spooky Phantober, day 2. I know it says SPOOKY phantober, but I don’t really do spooky, so this turned into something else, I hope that’s okay. 

AO3 FFN

In the course of his existence, Erik had come close to death many times. He’d been attacked, beaten, poisoned more times than he cared to remember. He had imagined and anticipated his own demise in more than a hundred different ways. On a few occasions, he had even longed for it, relished the idea of someone putting an end to his miserable life, but the human instinct for survival is a strange thing, the body always doing everything in its power to stay alive no matter how hard the brain yearns for it to stop.

Nevertheless, he could have spent an eternity envisioning his own death and it still would not have prepared him for this. He had always thought it would be painful. Whether it was sharp and quick or slow and drawn out, in his mind there was always physical suffering involved. This was something else entirely.

This type of dying was… soft. Every smile she gave him, every touch and every kind word she bestowed upon him made him feel warm. Hearing her sing for him and only him during their lessons lit up his entire being from the inside, made his spirit soar to heights he had never known existed. Her mere presence was like a drug, a powerful painkiller taking away the hurt caused by the knowledge that she would never be his.

Even if Christine could feel even a fraction of the love he felt for her, he could never bring himself to kill her light by dragging her down to his world of darkness, and her realm of colour and brightness would always be out of reach for the monster that he was. So he would bask in her glow as long as possible, and when she finally left, she would take his heart with her, if he ever had a heart to begin with.

He had been slowly dying like this for about a month now, while he watched her live as she never had before. After her successful debut as Elissa in Hannibal, Christine had been given more prominent roles and had managed to shine in every single one of them (not that Erik had expected anything else). Her angel’s voice along with his tutelage made her into the rising star of the Opera Populaire. Soon the whole world would be at her feet. It would not be long now before she would spread her wings and fly, leaving him behind to rot in hell like he deserved. It wouldn’t be painful, he expected. Once she had gone and he had no more reason to live, he would simply cease to be.

But he had some time left before all of that was to happen. Tonight, his angel had given what could arguably be called the best performance of her career thus far as Marguerite in the new production of Faust, and he was waiting behind the mirror of her dressing room to congratulate her in person. Soon she came bustling into the room, a most becoming blush colouring her cheeks, no doubt as a result of the praise bestowed upon her by her adoring audience. As soon as the door had closed behind her, her gaze went straight to the mirror.

‘Erik? Are you there?’ she called out.

‘Of course, my dear,’ he replied, ‘where else would I be?’

Indeed, where else would he be? Every minute he spent in her presence brought him closer to his inevitable demise, but that would not stop him from basking in her light for however long she would allow him to.

The lock on the door clicked shut. ‘Won’t you come in, please? You know I prefer to talk to you face to face,’ Christine said.

‘Yes, I do know that, although for the life of me, I cannot fathom why,’ he murmured to himself as he swung open the mirror and stepped into her dressing room.

‘Brava, my angel, you were magnificent tonight, as I knew you would be.’

She thanked him quietly, looking away from him, her cheeks turning an even brighter shade of red. Would she ever stop being so shy and modest in the face of his compliments, even though he must have given her thousands already? And would he ever stop feeling this fluttering in his chest when he saw that breathtakingly beautiful smile on her face? He hoped the answer was no.

‘We should start preparing you for your next role. I’m sure the new production will be announced soon.’

‘Yes, I suppose.’

Although Christine usually threw herself into preparing for a new role with enthusiasm, she seemed rather reluctant to address the topic tonight.

‘Is something the matter, my dear?’

Finally, for the first time that evening, she looked him in the eye, although her reply was still rather hesitant.

‘As a matter of fact, there is something I wish to discuss with you concerning the next production.’

‘Oh? And what would that be?’

‘I… I don’t think… Oh please, don’t be upset with me, Erik!’ she cried out, hiding her face in her hands.

‘Christine, whatever is going on?’ he asked, hastening over to her and gently wrapping an arm around her slender frame. ‘Why do you think I would be upset with you? My dear, your reaction has me quite concerned. Speak, child. Tell me what is wrong.’

She sniffled, slowly moving her hands away, allowing him to see her face, but her eyes remained fixed on the floor as she spoke.

‘I don’t want the leading role in the next production. In fact, I would prefer not to have any part in it at all, but I know that would not be conducive to my career, and you have been working so hard to get me where I am today, for which I am ever so grateful, so I thought I could maybe request a smaller role as a compromise.’

Whatever he had thought she would say, this was certainly not it. For a moment, he was stunned into silence.

‘Erik? Please say you’re not upset with me.’

If she had been anyone else, he would have yelled at her that of course, he was upset, how could she willingly throw away all that they had been tirelessly working towards these past few months? But this was Christine, his angel. He had to be more careful and considerate with her. The last thing he wanted was to scare her away. So he took a deep breath and tried his best to remain calm.

‘You are the star of this Opera, Christine. This is everything you’ve wanted, everything you deserve. I simply do not understand why you would want a smaller role now. Please explain it to me.’

‘It’s not that I don’t enjoy it or want it anymore, Erik, because I do, I promise, but I have been spending so much time in rehearsals and on stage lately that I barely got to see you anymore. I was only hoping that if I took on a less significant role in the next opera, you and I could spend more time together again, like we used to.’

For a moment, Erik thought he had misheard her. Did she mean she actually enjoyed his company? That she even preferred it over being on stage? Maybe he was dreaming. No, hallucinating, that was more likely. The idea of an angel like her willingly spending more time with a demon like him was preposterous. Only he could have dreamt that up.

‘Let me see if I understood you correctly. You want to give up a leading role because you want to spend more time with me? Don’t be ridiculous, my dear. I thought you would have figured out by now that my dreary little place five stories beneath the earth is no place for an angel like you. Your rightful place is up here, on that stage, playing the lead. You will not settle for anything less, Christine, I won’t have it and that is final.’

Clearly, that was not the reaction Christine was hoping for. She drew away from him, taking several paces back, her small, delicate hands balling into fists.

‘And why should you get to decide that? It’s my life, my career, surely I should have a say in this as well.’

‘If you were capable of making choices that would be beneficial to your career, then yes,’ he retorted. ‘In this case, however, I think you should leave the decision making up to me, since you don’t seem to know what is good for you.’

‘How dare you!’ Christine gasped, her face now red with indignation, the look in her eyes suddenly more fierce and passionate than he had ever seen from her. ‘Is that what you want? To make all my decisions for me? Well, I suppose I should not be surprised. After all, that is exactly what you have been doing since we’ve met, is it not?’

Is that what she truly thought of him? That all he wanted was to control her?

‘Christine, listen –‘

‘No, you listen!’ she yelled. ‘These past few months, you have been telling me what to do. Not only how to improve my singing, but what to eat, when to come and when to go, how to behave towards Carlotta and the managers. And I have listened to you, let you guide me in whatever direction you liked like a puppet on a string, because I believed you knew what was best for me where my singing career was concerned. But you do not know what is best for me when it comes to my heart, Erik.’

When Erik didn’t reply – how could he, he didn’t even know where to start, didn’t understand what was happening at all – she slowly walked up to him, taking his right hand in both of hers and bringing it up to her chest, right over her heart.

‘I care for you, Erik. So much.’

He wanted to stop her right there, because that could not possibly be the truth, but she held up a hand to halt his protests. She continued, her voice softer now, looking up at him with pleading eyes, pleading for what he did not know.

‘When I am up on that stage, I’m not singing for the audience. I am singing for you. You are the one who gave me my voice, and so every time I sing, I am laying my soul at your feet. I could not care less who else is listening to me, as long as you are there. And I know you are there every single time, I can always feel your presence even when I cannot see you, but sometimes it feels like it is not enough. I want to be near you. I love to sing for you, but I want to sing with you as well. Please let me.’

If it had been physically possible, Erik’s jaw would have dropped to the floor. She could not possibly mean any of this, could she? She was right, he had controlled and manipulated her, even if he did not think of it as such at the time, and still she was here, standing right in front of him, telling him she cared for him?

When the ability to from words finally returned to him, her name was the first sound that crossed his lips.

‘Christine,’ he whispered, his usually confident and commanding voice now trembling with bewilderment, ‘I do not understand. How? Why?’

‘You silly man,’ Christine said, a soft smile playing on her lips. ‘Such a genius, and yet understanding human emotions has always been beyond your grasp, has it not?’

Suddenly he felt her soft little hand caressing the unmasked side of his face. He gasped, trembling under her touch, and before he could say anything her lips were on his.

If she had been softly killing him before, it now felt like she was breathing life back into him with a single kiss. If he had been slowly descending into the darkness of hell, she was now pulling him back up towards her own blinding light. He let out a soft whimper when she pulled back a little, but then she kissed him again, a little more firmly this time, and he finally managed to wrap his left arm around her waist, his right hand still resting over her heart where she had placed it. His whole body was buzzing with an energy he had not felt in a long time, every nerve screaming at him that he was most definitely alive.

Death would have to wait a little longer after all, it seemed.

[slashyrogue]

Continued from:   Ambrosia 1 ~ Ambrosia 2 ~ Ambrosia 3 ~ Ambrosia 4 ~ Ambrosia 5 

What Will did was avoid Hannibal as much as possible. 

He took advantage of the pond Hannibal had fish added to for his own amusement, though it was big enough to be almost a lake. The fish he caught and let go over the next few days, which started to get a little boring but it was something that kept him away from temptation. 

And Hannibal was very much a temptation. 

Will had found himself plagued with erotic dreams every single night since he’d been bitten by Hannibal. Every touch, lick, and bite felt like the real thing so much so that Will woke up a mess every morning. He’d taken to getting up earlier because of it and hiding his messed bed linens. 

A week went by before Hannibal commented, much to Will’s embarrassment. 

“I still feel quite upset about what happened last week,” he said softly, sipping on a wine glass full of blood from Will’s donation just a week ago, “It was not my intention to force you into something you weren’t…” 

Will took a bite of his steak, hating the blush that came to his cheeks. “You didn’t. I told you that I gave you permission.” 

“I’m almost certain the permission was only out of worry, and your...avoidance of being around me this week confirms that.” 

He felt his cheeks burn. “I’m not avoiding you.” 

“You have taken all of your meals in private everyday since until today, and spent most of your time outside in between laundering your own things. I know this arrangement is not ideal, but if it’s going to make you so very afraid of me I would go back to the way it was.” 

Will scoffed. “And slowly die?” 

The frown on Hannibal’s face made Will’s stomach hurt, while the flash of his fang made the rest of him get warm. 

“Yes,” Hannibal admitted, sipping his blood, “I very much enjoy you, Will. Your blood may have brought you to my attention but you have done the rest.” 

Will hated how good the words made him feel. “You barely know me.” 

“I know enough,” Hannibal said, “I’ve been quite lonely most of my life and you...you are someone I could imagine as a companion. Friends are not something vampires find often, let alone one as powerful as I am. I trust very few people, but I trust you implicitly.” 

Friend. 

Will forced himself to smile. 

He didn’t have any friends either, mostly because of how antisocial he’d been for so long, and the dark parts of him had always been so hard to hide. If he told Hannibal the truth would he be the one who avoided him? He had to have known Will was aroused that night he bit him, but he’d never tried to seduce or coerce him since. 

“I trust you too,” Will admitted, staring down at his plate. 

“That makes me very happy to hear. I….” 

Will forced himself to push past his fear. 

“That night you said I smelled exquisite when I’m...happy.” 

“Yes,” Hannibal purred, “And you have not smelled happy for a week now except when…” 

Will looked up. “When what?” 

“I’ve…” Hannibal sighed, “....taken to standing outside your door to smell you sleep. You always smell happy when you’re asleep.” 

He bit his lip, blushing so hard now he was sure his face was on fire. 

“Will…” 

“You did this,” he accused, glaring at him, “I let you bite me and...it felt good. Really, really good.” 

Hannibal blinked. “Oh.” 

“And it’s all I can think about when I’m around you. Every single night I….dream about it which is why I’ve been cleaning my own laundry. I’m sure…” 

Will watched Hannibal’s eyes glow brighter than he’d ever seen them glow before. 

“Would you….like me to bite you again?” 

Will swallowed past the dryness in his throat. 

“You want us to be friends,” Will whispered, hands shaking as he gripped his fork, “So letting you bite me and me getting off on it sort of ruins that, right?” 

“I wanted us to be friends because I have none,” Hannibal confessed, “But I never once said I had no want for us to be lovers. I merely had no wish to make you do something you didn’t want to do.” 

Will’s body ached in anticipation. 

All he had to do was say the words. 

“I....I wouldn’t say no to being bit again.” 

Hannibal licked his lips. “Does that mean yes or no?” 

“It means....the next time you’re hungry feel free to take blood from wherever you please.” 

He realized just how dirty that sounded and blushed even harder. 

“All the blood is rushing to your cheeks, but I think I’d prefer somewhere else.” 

“Hannibal…” 

“We’ll start your blood flow diet again tomorrow. It would be much safer if you were eating to promote blood production, as I....intend to take you up on your offer often.” 

Will let out a long breath, and his hands shook when he picked up his fork again. 

“That’s...sounds good to me.” 

The dogs barked, thankfully, and Will took the excuse. 

“Excuse me.” 

He took all four of them outside, still shaking, and watched as they did their business. This house was so far off from the rest of the world, more so than his own, and after weeks here he was starting to feel like it was home. Would getting even closer to Hannibal make it harder for him to ever leave? Did he really want to? 

The sound of the door opening made him stiffen but not move. 

“They seem to enjoy it here.” 

“Yeah,” Will whispered, “Anywhere they can eat grass, chase wild animals, and shit is pretty much the perfect home to them.” 

“What is the perfect home to you?” 

He turned to look at Hannibal. “What?” 

“What would be your perfect home, Will? How...how can I make you feel so at home you would never wish to leave?” 

Will frowned. “I can’t leave now, can I? I mean, it’s only been a few weeks and no one’s come out here but I don’t think it’s because they don’t want to. Is it?” 

“No,” Hannibal said, “They don’t come close to me if they can help it.” 

“They’re afraid of you.”

“Yes,” he said, moving to stand beside Will, “I’m the oldest of all and no one is entirely sure what I’m capable of if pushed too far.” 

Will shivered, and not from the cold. “Do you know what you’re capable of?” 

Hannibal smiled and his fangs shone bright in the moonlight. “Often I’m not entirely sure, but I know my limitations.” 

He looked away. “I’m not sure I know mine.” 

“You have not answered my question.” 

Will sighed. “A perfect home to me is somewhere I can feel safe and....where I know I’m supposed to be.” 

Hannibal reached for his hand and Will got there first, entwining their fingers and squeezing their palms together. “You wouldn’t have come here if not for the attack.” 

“If you’re about to tell me you sicced them on me….” 

“I didn’t,” Hannibal said, squeezing his hand, “I promise you I didn’t.” 

Will looked at him again. “I’m almost glad it happened, but if you did send them to get me I’d never forgive you.” 

“I know.” 

He stared into Hannibal’s red eyes. “You keep forgetting something. If not for the taste of my blood I wouldn’t be here either.”

“Circumstance brought you here, but what’s happened since….” 

Will couldn’t help but kiss him. He moaned as Hannibal pulled him closer, and trembled when he felt Hannibal’s fangs brush his tongue. Hannibal’s deep growl caused the dogs to all howl and they broke apart, turning to see them all standing at the foot of the stairs staring up at them. 

“I think you might be the leader of the pack now.” 

Hannibal laughed, growling again, and the dogs all came up to be closer to him. Will’s chest ached as he moved away to catch his breath. 

Things were moving too fast. Weren’t they? 

“Come on, guys let’s go in.” 

He went through the door first and the dogs all followed, desperate for touches. 

“Will….” 

“I’m not gonna avoid you anymore,” he promised, “But I am still gonna wash my own sheets.” 

Hannibal smiled. “That sounds quite fair.” 

Will smiled. “I like you, Hannibal. I...I trust you. Don’t make me regret it.” 

He reached out to touch Will’s cheek and the coolness of his skin shouldn’t have made Will aroused but his body had other ideas. Hannibal leaned in and kissed Will’s cheek. 

“I will not,” he whispered into his ear. 

“How long till you think....” Will started to ask, hard as a fucking rock now. 

“Seven days,” Hannibal said, pulling back to look into his eyes.

“That’s...way too long.” 

“Anticipation can often enhance the final outcome.” 

Will laughed. “Are all vampires this good at the fine art of flirting or is it just you?” 

“I’m not sure,” Hannibal teased, “But I have been told I’m quite adept at getting what I want.” 

“That makes one of us.” 

Hannibal ran his fingers down Will’s cheek. “You are, Will,” he said softly, “But you struggle to ask for it.” 

“You know me so well, now?” Will asked, feeling uncomfortable. 

“I know you very well, but also not well enough. I want to know all your thoughts, dreams, desires, and fears. I want....all you can give me.” 

Will felt tears in his eyes. “This is getting a little too…” 

“You are free to retire for the evening, Will. I apologize if my words give you discomfort.” 

He shook his head. “No, it’s,” he took two steps closer to him, “It’s not that.” 

“Then what is it?” 

“Everything you say just makes me want to give you all of that and I worry that if I do, I’ll find out you only wanted me for what I could give you not because...I’m me.” 

Hannibal pressed their foreheads together and Will felt a tear go down his cheek. 

“If you never wish to give me your blood again I will stop right this instant. The blood brought you here but the more I learn of you the more I want you. Will…” 

Will kissed him again, slowly, shaking as Hannibal’s hand came to the back of his neck. 

He wanted this. 

Fuck, he wanted him and every flowery word that he whispered to be true. 

They kissed for what felt like a lifetime until Will fought to breathe and Hannibal pulled away. 

“Goodnight, Will.” 

“Goodnight,” Will said, his voice thick with emotion or desire he wasn’t sure. 

He forced himself to go to take the dogs to their room, sitting on the floor with them, and put his head in his hands. 

“Fuck,” he whispered. 

Even now all he wanted to do was go back to be with Hannibal. 

Every time they got close or even spoke to each other the more he wanted to be with Hannibal. 

Will felt Buster lick his hand and smiled. “How did you know Harley was the one you wanted, boy? Huh? Was it the smell of her ass or….did it just feel so right you couldn’t imagine being with anyone else?” 

Buster rubbed his head under Will’s hand and he pet him. 

He wouldn’t get any answers from Buster, obviously. 

Tonight he’d opened a door with the Vampire King that most people would be terrified of even thinking about. If it all turned to shit and he wanted to close it again, could he? Or was this feeling he had with Hannibal real? 

Will got up off the floor after a while, and headed for his room. He had half expected to see Hannibal in the hallway but found himself alone. Would Hannibal listen to him sleep tonight? 

He left the door open just in case. 

Tagging because they asked: @creatures-that-wont-die, @clehjett, @skallarr , @mxrderhxsbands

[why-this-kolaveri-machi]

chin fucking up, amigo.

Titans 3.02

... eh?

SPOILERS ahead.

1. you know that music video for billie jean where michael jackson would dance along the pavement and the tiles would light up under his feet in different colours? yeah? me too.

titans hasn’t met a table top or a support arch that it doesn’t want to light up in a headache-inducing blue like the world’s most boring nightlight. i mean, i’m not an expert on lighting or cinematography or just... colour by any means, and the quality of the video i’m watching is poor given that i can’t access hbo max, but all the orange and teal and neon is making it very difficult to really differentiate between say, the batcave and the gotham police department and hell, the titans tower. i feel like there’s oftentimes a gap between idea and execution with titans, with gotham being this almost otherwordly hellscape with an aesthetic pulled from a gothic horror novel, but the colours and design just... leave it flat and dark and dull.

1.5. like what really frustrates me is that titans has a delightful mix of tones--the fights often remind me of schumacher-era batman camp, with the contrived quips and the start-stop rhythm and krypto just sallying in and ending the fight with a fucking SuperBark (tm) but in the same episode you have red hood just casually pulling out severed heads out of a duffle bag and desperate people blackmailed into killing themselves out of drug overdoses. I MEAN. it’s wonderful! but it looks all the same. it sounds Absolutely Bonkers on paper but on screen both Quip and Murder happen in the same washed-out blue and i wanted to be excited about the batcave, dammit!

2. things re: red hood have happened at such a breakneck speed that it feels like there’s so much that’s happened off-screen that we’re not privy to. a real proper mystery! 

things that are intriguing about the red hood arc so far:

a) what was that chemical he huffed just before going to fight the joker? is it a regular old performance/adrenaline booster or is it something more lazarus-juice adjacent? if it’s the latter, i can’t imagine he got that much information from a lone chemistry textbook. and where is he getting the resources to set up his little chemistry lab? is somebody else orchestrating things behind the scenes?

b) the red hood persona, costume and mask, plus the elaborate plan he’s putting in place to both string along gotham’s rogues and enact his revenge against the titans seems too... fully-formed and elaborate to have been concocted in just a few days. how long do you think jason’s been planning this? just... stewing in resentment and building rage, dismissed and passed around and underestimated and realising that the power he thought he would get by being robin is no power, no protection at all, but something that’s left him even more vulnerable than before? 

c) do we think that the scarecrow is at least partly behind this transformation? because yes, it was batman that set up this whole hannibal lecter-esque situation with him, and he would be irresponsible enough to have jason-as-robin go talk to him regularly regarding “~profiling~” criminals. it’s not too far of a leap to assume that scarecrow could’ve been manipulating jason at a very vulnerable time, and that he could’ve passed along some of his chemistry know-how, too.

d) ... or fuck, i wouldn’t put it past titans to introduce ra’s al ghul in a fucking ten second aside

e) anyway, the thing that won’t leave me alone is jason seeking out the joker not necessarily to fight him, but to orchestrate his own death. the whole thing has to have been part of a bigger plan. he broke batman with it, after all. and he’s starting to break the titans, too.

f) i love it! i mean, it does re-tread some of the storybeats we had with deathstroke last season (turning the titans against each other as revenge, etc) but it’s... tighter, this time, and at least for now seems better-executed. and as a red hood story it’s different enough to be really interesting, and i appreciate the ways in which its reframed the revenge story to focus on the titans rather than just the batman. like fuck everything up, i say! turn it on its head! slash the innards out of that sacred cow and strew it like garlands in the path of the Story You Want To Tell!

(and yes i am fully aware that by the time i post this review, there will be a whole lot more information out but if i come across like a fool then goddammit i will be a fool!)

2. i love how every season of titans starts off with, ‘oh dick, you thought you were settling into a role and a life and a pattern of relationships? well fuck you, here’s a terrible and traumatic thing, tons more responsibility, and circumstances that will lead you to uproot your entire life and move somewhere else.’ and dick’s just like, ‘well, ok. fuck you, but all right’.

can you imagine? the man was just settling into leading a team in sf and smiling for the first time in years, and now he has to deal with jason’s death, bruce experiencing a full fledged breakdown, coming back to a city that represents more bad memories than good, red hood, and a frightening new case that seems to be targeting him and his team. it’s a testament to dick’s growth that he’s not reacting to this stress like he did last year, shutting everybody out, making irrational decisions and experiencing sharp, short bursts of anger. (not to mention a full fledged psychotic episode.)

2.5. but i’ve also talked about dick performing a fair amount of unwarranted emotional labour for his team(s) in that he just lets them take out their frustrations on him and... does nothing. be it his team exploding at him for jericho (both in flashback and present-day) or donna and hank needling him for handling deathstroke poorly or barbara berating him for not handling the bank situation as well as she thought batman would though just the previous episode she had talked about how fucked up it was that bruce just expected dick to step up and replace him in gotham without any real notice. i mean it’s all perfectly understandable and sympathetic from their end--and i’m not trying to bash them here!--but hank, my man, the same chin you’re asking your amigo to keep up is the one that you punched last year and never apologised for. just sayin’.

2.75. @superohclair did a wonderful breakdown of what the ‘fear’ contract could imply here and there’s not too much i could add to that. it’s just really interesting that fear ended up being such a defining feature of their lives, albeit it’s the fear of seeming less than invincible in the face of bigger, more tangible fears. am i making sense?  dick feared loss, and abandonment, and the more existential concept of turning into something that he didn’t want to. bruce so feared being alone that he’s scouting kids to replace robin within days of jason dying. 

it also goes some way in explaining the tense sort of... restraint that bruce and dick show in the wake of loss and tragedy, like anything less than complete control of your emotions can lead to tragedy. it’s conditioning that dick couldn’t shake off when he was at his lowest in detroit, hating his legacy but unable to let it go either.

2.775. but i definitely appreciate the softness that dick displays with his team now, checking on them after a mission-gone-bad, welcoming back old members with no caveats or resentments (and kory’s delight in seeing hank back! hank and dick hanging out together and hank trying to prop dick up!), and appreciating their teamwork in solving cases. that’s always been the essence of dick as a person, and the beating heart of this show: flawed and traumatised people coming together to a place that will always be open to them, where they can be their worst and be supported still, allowed to make mistakes and grow from them. that’s family.

2.8. coming back to bruce for just a sec, it’s interesting how that gotham rogue was so certain when he said that ‘batman doesn’t kill’ but it’s not a rule that either jason or dick put much store by when they were robins. the ‘no-killing’ rule clearly didn’t mitigate dick’s fears about turning into batman and jason’s never been seeing giving two shits about it. it seems to me of a piece with bruce’s distant, second-hand sort of parenting that we see in dick’s flashbacks from s1 where the fear was never about personally disappointing batman, but taking lessons from him on finding a place in gotham’s hellish ecosystem and surviving.

3. kory having waking flashbacks! i don’t buy the bullshit parasomnia episode explanation from fake!HPG (because c’mon, justin has to be some sort of tamaranean ruse) because for one, you have to be actually asleep for that diagnosis. 

(and here i was, hoping against hope that HPG would actually end up as the team’s therapist)

curiouser and curiouser! i wonder if these flashbacks are from the time between kory landing on earth and the beginning of season 1, when she was completely amnesiac? it’d be cool if the show was considering repercussions from that time, and if kory hasn’t gained all her memories back. 

4. i just love the vibes between gar and conner and kory. gar Having Things To Do is only one part of my wishlist for him, however: other parts include having an actual story arc, and actually bonding with members who are not conner and kory. (dick! dick! hank! dick!)

anyway. time to move on to watching ep3 and seeing this family bond and nothing terrible and tragic happening at all, nope, nosiree.