#out as if he was gonna hug will. now. imagine that hannibal hugs will from behind him and will leans into it and for a slight moment allows | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

raspberryfingers · 3 years ago

Text

Bull Rider

Warning: NSFW

“Oh come on, Hannibal. It would be so fun.”

“You think being in a bar full of drunk rednecks would be fun?”

Clarice sighed, and he immediately apologized.

“I’m just saying, my dear, that I’m not sure it’s an entirely good idea,” he said softly, taking her hands in his.

“Hannibal, you’ve introduced me to an entirely different world, one that I’ve learned to fit into quite well. But we’re visiting the states for a month, and part of me just wants to- I don’t know, live normally again,” she explained, looking down.

“Normally?”

“Not like that. I just meant that it would be kinda nice to take a break from all the evening gowns and high society. I’d like to talk to people that aren’t stuck up and rich.”

Hannibal smiled.

“We’re rich, Clarice.”

“Yeah but we aren’t stuck up,” she said, giving him a playful shove.

He chuckled, and then frowned again.

“Are you sure this is a good idea, Clarice?”

“If you’re worried about us being caught, a West Virginia bar is the best place we could go. I’ll do all the talking and they won’t suspect a thing. Plus, it’s been awhile since we’ve gone out to drink,” she said, kissing his hand.

“I don’t think you’ll find whatever alcohol they have as satisfying as what’s in our pantry, my dear.”

Clarice laughed now.

“It’s too bad you didn’t know me in college, Hannibal. You would’ve been disgusted,” she grinned, and he sighed, shaking his head.

“There is a first for everything, I suppose.”

“Thank you, babe. I’m gonna do some shopping first, because if you show up dressed like that, they’re gonna have some questions.”

“Lovely.”

——

The couple was staying in a house at the very edge of West Virginia, far enough from Quantico and Baltimore to feel safe, but close enough that if Clarice wanted, they could visit some sites.

They’d done this once before, and Hannibal had noticed it did put Clarice at ease. She liked her life as it was, but one cannot evade feeling homesick from time to time.

No, homesick is not the right word. Her home is in Buenos Aires. She missed the place in which she grew older. Perhaps that was it.

She wondered if Baltimore State Hospital was still abandoned.

Currently, Hannibal was sitting in the living room, adjusting his shirt.

He felt ridiculous dressed as he was. He wondered why he was doing this. Alas, he knew it was to make Clarice happy, and his internal complaints were silenced.

He heard boots, and instantly turned.

Fire sparked in his eyes when he saw Clarice.

She was wearing the shortest shorts he’d ever seen her in, and a plaid top tied in the front. Additionally, the top of her shirt was unbuttoned, leaving little to the imagination.

“Clarice…” he breathed, swallowing.

She approached him, gripping his shirt and kissing him slowly.

“You ready, cowboy?”

He cleared his throat, nodding.

“Clarice-“

“Hm?”

“Are you- are you going- like- like that?” he coughed, adjusting his collar, which felt too tight.

“What do you mean, am I going like that? I wouldn’t have put this on if I wasn’t,” she remarked, scoffing.

Hannibal, much like a small child, only had one thing on his mind.

Breasts.

“Must we go out…” he muttered, lips parting as he inhaled.

“What?”

“Nothing, my dear.”

She shot him a suspicious glance, but nevertheless grabbed the car keys and went into the garage.

He followed behind, incapable of taking his eyes off of her behind.

The shorts hugged her so perfectly in all the right places, and he felt so grateful in that moment. She was his.

Clarice Starling, full of knowledge, passion, and beauty, was his. Hannibal felt he hadn’t done anything good enough to deserve her.

And he felt that especially now, watching her duck into the driver's seat.

Unlike traditional households, when they weren't chauffeured, Clarice drove. He’d mentioned it once, and she had merely replied “of all the ways in which we’re untraditional, you're pondering who drives the car?”

He had admitted to the irony, and they laughed together.

Though sometimes, if Clarice was particularly frustrated or stressed, he couldn’t help but tense up in the passenger's seat.

He was currently tensed up in the passenger's seat for an entirely different reason.

“Clarice, I beg pardon for the comment I made earlier. You look lovely tonight,” he said after a brief silence.

She smiled.

“You don’t have to be so rigid all the time, Hannibal. You can say I look hot, I know that’s what you’re thinking,” she said, keeping her eyes on the road. She knew he was looking at her, but she did not care.

“Would you appreciate such a remark?”

“Well what do you think I want you to say? You look good enough to eat?” She inquired, laughing at her own joke.

“I should think you would prefer softer adjectives, such as beautiful,” he replied.

“I do prefer it, just- it doesn’t save you when you get that look in your eyes,” she teased, looking over at him for a second.

“What ‘look in my eyes?” He glared, feeling unfairly subjected to his partner's scrutiny.

“Oh stop pretending, Hannibal. When you turned around you looked like you were about to start foaming at the mouth.”

“I was not going rabid, Clarice.”

“You got all choked up and you started adjusting your collar like you do whenever you’re turned on. I’m just as observant as you, Doctor Lecter.”

He cleared his throat and opened his mouth to speak, but went silent.

After several moments he mumbled,

“It’s hardly consistent behavior.”

Clarice smiled to herself, proud of the victory.

They’d finally arrived at the bar, and in sync they emerged from their vehicle.

He extended his arm to her, and she took it instantly.

They entered the bar, and he tried his very hardest not to make a face.

Just like all bars, it was repulsive. Clarice seemed to be enjoying herself, however, and so he silenced his thoughts.

Suddenly she gasped, and he looked over at her.

“Look,” she said, and Hannibal immediately fixed his gaze where her eyes were.

There was a mechanical bull.

“C’mon, let’s go get a drink first, and then I’ll try it,” she said, pulling him along.

“Try it?” He questioned, baffled.

“Of course. It’s been awhile but I think I could still stay on,” she said, approaching the bar.

She ordered them drinks, getting something relatively cheap for herself, and some finer alcohol for Hannibal. He was internally thankful.

“Clarice, do you really think riding one of those in front of everyone is smart? What if you’re recognized?” He whispered in her ear. She sighed.

“I won’t be, H. It’s been too long since I lived anywhere near here. Trust me, alright?”

“I do, Clarice. I apologize. I do trust you,” he said, sweetly kissing her forehead.

She smiled, squeezing his hand.

They received their drinks, and Hannibal thanked the bartender.

“H, remember what I said about me talkin’? Everyone’s gonna know we aren’t local if you talk,” she said, and he had only then realized she’d reverted to her accent.

God, it threw him off guard. He hadn’t heard her talk that way in years. He was oddly turned on.

Doctor Lecter.

He inhaled, and she could see it in his eyes.

She grinned, and walked away without saying a word.

He furrowed his eyebrows, following her with eager curiosity.

She was heading for the bull, and he understood.

He wondered if she was trying to tease him.

When the man trying it finished, it was her turn.

She looked back at Hannibal, winking and getting on.

He grinned, making his way to the front of the crowd gathered around.

He slowly licked his lips.

As she mounted the thing, It became increasingly obvious just how short and tight her shorts really were.

The bull began moving underneath her, and it was clear she’d done it before.

Clarice felt confident, not at all afraid of the machine beneath her. She’d done this plenty of times to impress guys in highschool. Now she was doing it for her husband.

She nearly laughed.

The bull picked up speed, and it spun her around. She stayed on, unphased.

When it suddenly dipped forward, Hannibal and everyone in the crowd got quite the view.

Hannibal shifted, adjusting his pants. Not only was Clarice’s ass high up for him to see, but the confidence she exerted was turning him on.

He felt extremely tense.

And when the guy controlling the bull made it spin and shake, he could hardly believe the sight before him.

He would’ve been angry at the man for doing it, but the sight eased him completely.

Well, he was at ease until he remembered he wasn’t the only man in the crowd.

Even the ones accompanied by women seemed entranced. And when they began to whistle and encourage Clarice, he was filled with a possessive anger.

And oh did Clarice seem encouraged by the whistles.

She grinned, it was all going to plan.

She could feel her husband fuming.

As the bull turned, she made eye contact with him.

Despite the desire in his eyes, he looked ready to kill someone.

Clarice winked at him, and he chuckled, shaking his head.

He couldn’t take her anywhere, that was certain.

It was what he loved about her.

The operator now began to make the bull move forward and back, down and up.

Clarice moved her hips perfectly, riding it with a slow, erotic grace.

Hannibal again, adjusted his pants.

His lips parted, and he licked them.

This memory was being stored deep in his memory palace for revisiting.

He was set.

Clarice was going to ride him like that.

He was so incredibly horny, watching the scene before him. He needed to fuck her.

Hannibal couldn’t take it.

He was going insane.

More men whistled, clapping.

His anger boiled further.

“Why don’t you ride me that way, Missy!”

The man next to Hannibal had said it and whistled. By the time Clarice spun around to face them, she saw in his eyes it was too late.

Hannibal grabbed the man’s collar, gripping it tightly and punching him square in the jaw.

Hannibal was much smaller, but he had no doubts.

The whistler groaned, and immediately tried to fight back, but Hannibal landed another blow.

Clarice immediately slipped off the bull, running over. She grabbed her husband's shirt.

“H, no!”

She pulled him back off the man, and he came willingly. He recognized his wife’s touch.

“I’m so sorry, sir. My husband is terribly drunk, please don’t mind him,” she lied, trying to defuse the situation.

The man growled, but when he saw the look in Hannibal’s eyes, he nodded his head.

“Ya, alright. Keep him away from me,” he said, rubbing his jaw.

“Of course, sorry sir.”

Clarice immediately grabbed her boots and jumped over the railing, grabbing Hannibal by his wrist and dragging him out.

He groaned internally.

He’d been impulsive and stupid, Clarice must be furious.

When they reached the car, however, she slammed him against it, and kissed him roughly.

His eyes widened, but after processing her reaction, he kissed back with the same passion.

Clarice grabbed his collar, pulling him away from the car.

She opened the backseat door, and pushed him in.

She followed and closed the door behind her.

“Fuck, Hannibal. God that was so hot,” she gasped, straddling him and kissing him again.

He was sitting up against the seat, and he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close.

He could smell arousal.

“Clarice… you were magnificent,” he mumbled, kissing her neck.

She moaned, ripping open her shirt.

Nobody would see, as Hannibal had shades in the front and had taken extra care to purchase a car with specially tinted windows.

He had her lean back, unclasping her bra and burying his head in her breasts.

Meanwhile, Clarice could feel the brick in his pants.

She ripped his shirt off too, knowing he wouldn’t mind it being ripped anyways.

She lifted herself, undoing his belt and tugging his pants.

“So.. eager,” he mumbled.

“I know you want to fuck my brains out, pretending doesn’t earn you any points,” she whispered, hands in his hair.

He lowered the seat back.

“You’re going to ride me, Clarice. Just like that bull,” he growled, hand moving to her throat.

She grinned.

“Oh really? Who’s making me?”

He growled, and moved to undo her shorts, but she quickly gripped his hands, tying them around the headrest of the seat with the shirt she’d ripped off.

“It’s my turn to fuck you, Cowboy,” she breathed, licking up his neck.

He’d never felt so aroused, watching Clarice discard her shorts along with his jeans.

Her underwear followed.

She observed his erection through his briefs.

“Someone seems a bit riled up. I wonder what I should do about that,” she smiled, pushing herself down into the foot space and spreading his legs.

Hannibal gasped, feeling his underwear being discarded.

Clarice watched his erection spring up, and he clearly seemed relieved.

“Clarice… please,” he mumbled, throwing his head forward to look at her.

“Please? You’re going to have to do a lot better than that, Hannibal,” she smiled at him.

“Please, Clarice. I want you… I want you to touch me. I need you… I need you to touch me. God, please, please touch me, Clarice,” he moaned, her hands slowly working their way up his thighs.

“Touch you where, Hannibal?” She questioned, removing her hands.

He exhaled in frustration.

“My penis, Clarice. Please, touch my erection. I need you. Touch and you’ll feel me throbbing for you, my dear,” he gasped out, her hands again touching his thighs.

“Ahum, good boy.”

She wrapped a hand around his length, and he shook.

He was right, he was throbbing.

“And now what?” She teased, slowly moving her thumb up and down.

“Oh Clarice… please, you know… you know what I want,” he moaned.

“I certainly do. I guess I’ve been cruel enough,” she smiled, rubbing him slowly.

He moaned, and she gently lowered her mouth to his tip.

He was making noises neither of them had heard him make before.

“Clarice… oh god,” he moaned, and she lowered her head even further.

After a moment,

“Do you want to come, or do you want me to get on top?”

“On top, please,” Hannibal gasped.

She smiled, having expected that answer.

She returned to his lap, positioning herself above him. He leaned his head forward, kissing her stomach.

Slowly, Clarice came down on him, and he cried out.

She moaned too, hands on his legs.

She adjusted to him, lifting and lowering a few times.

She was so warm, so warm and so wet.

Hannibal wished he had his hands. He wanted to guide her hips, but he’d have to let her do as she pleased now.

Clarice came all the way down, and stayed there for a moment, smiling at him.

She slowly began to move her hips, and his breath caught in his throat.

She was so beautiful.

Hannibal bucked his hips, and she raised an eyebrow at him.

“The bull was bucking too, you seemed rather unphased then,” he hissed, and she laughed and kissed him.

Her own desire was taking over, and she could no longer go on teasing this way.

She began to smoothly move her hips, spelling out her name with them.

Hannibal shuddered, moving his body along with hers so she was properly riding.

Clarice wasn’t on top often, but when she was, Hannibal absolutely loved it.

He moaned as she got more aggressive, absolutely entranced with her every movement.

She leaned forward, kissing him.

He pushed his tongue into her mouth, desperate for her.

She moaned into his mouth, pushing her tongue into his.

After a moment,

“Untie me, Clarice…”

“No.”

He groaned, throwing his head back as she continued to ride.

It seemed she had found a certain technique that felt particularly good to her, because she continued like that and sped up a bit.

Hannibal was not complaining whatsoever.

She was moaning loudly, gasping for air.

“Hannibal… Hannibal, you feel so good…” she whined, continuing with even more vigor.

He could feel himself twitching inside her, desire clouding everything in his mind.

His eyes moved back and forth between her face and her breasts, overstimulated and not sure where to look.

“Hannibal! I’m gonna- I’m gonna come,” she cried, movement slowing down with a frustrated desperation.

He growled, moving his hips with more passion to keep her stimulated.

She gasped at the feeling, tucking her chin in and moaning loudly as she came.

He could feel her insides begin to pulse, and watched as she shook on top of him.

The sight ruined him, and he moaned at just the feeling it gave him inside.

Clarice collapsed against her husband, panting.

He kissed her shoulder, whispering sweetly in her ear.

He hadn’t reached an orgasm yet, and he knew that Clarice knew. In situations like these, she simply needed a moment before they continued.

When she regained full consciousness, she smiled and kissed him.

He kissed back, enjoying the simple intimacy they were currently sharing.

“Clarice,” he said softly.

“Hm?”

“You’ve proved you can ride the bull, but can you stay on?”

Before Clarice could fully comprehend his words, she was grabbed and pinned across the car seats. As she came down, it seemed her clever partner had found a way out of his bonds. She was not surprised.

Now her hands were being tied above her head, and she felt excitement at the prospect.

“Maybe I didn’t want to,” she said, catching Hannibal’s gaze.

He chuckled.

“I’m certain. Now, be obedient and open your legs. Yes, thank you. Good girl, Clarice,” he praised, watching as she slowly opened them, teasing.

Normally, he would’ve taken this chance to eat her out, but his erection was so hard that he could hardly focus on anything but being inside her.

He held her legs apart, lifting them slightly and drawing her closer.

He was on his knees, and he smiled at her as he rubbed himself between her folds. She whined, looking down as he did.

“Hannibal…”

“All good things to those who wait.”

A sudden gasp erupted from her as she felt him push in, going as deep as he possibly could.

He moaned, throwing his head back before looking down at her again.

She squirmed beneath him, and he sighed out in pleasure, slowly thrusting in and out of her.

He pulled all the way out, making her whine just as he pushed back in.

His length was covered in her slick, and he closed his eyes for a moment, feeling her warm walls enrapture him.

He sped up a bit, just enough to drive her insane.

“Hannibal… oh god,” she moaned.

“I want to make you feel good, Clarice. I want to hear you moan my name,” he hissed, making her moan even louder.

“I want- I want to hear you moan, Hannibal,” she shot back, hips moving against his.

He lowered himself on top of her, and leaned into her ear.

“Clarice,” he whispered softly, desire in his voice. She whimpered, wrapping her legs around his hips.

He sighed, putting more force into his thrusts, just how he knew she liked.

Clarice moaned even louder somehow, provoked by every little touch and feeling.

He felt himself going insane for her touch, already eager for release. She’d been driving him insane the whole time.

If he didn’t come soon, he felt as if he might burst entirely.

Clarice began to suck as his neck, and he let out a raspy inhale, shaking as he thrusted.

They were growing more passionate, more desperate. He was letting himself go.

Feeling her body underneath him was an unparalleled feeling. He couldn’t even begin to describe how her warm skin felt against his. He could feel her stomach bulging against his as he thrusted, and it was heavenly, if Hannibal Lecter deserved such things.

Clarice was growing close to her second orgasm, the closeness and warmth of her spouse adding to the intimacy of the moment. There was something about feeling him like this that she could never ever get used to.

“H-Hannibal I’m gonna- oh fuck, I’m gonna come,” she gasped, holding onto his neck and pushing her fingers into his hair.

He growled in recognition, unable to say anything but a few words, consisting of:

“Clarice… oh god, fuck… Clarice.”

He gasped her name over and over, suddenly feeling her orgasm beneath him. She shook, attempting to bite her lip, but failing as she threw her head all the way forward into his neck, letting out a long, loud, and sensual moan.

He shuddered, growing sloppy and breathing heavily as he approached his own orgasm.

Clarice was in a state of euphoria, somewhat unaware of his movement. She simply caught her breath, hands running up and down his back.

As she regained her full consciousness, she could tell he himself was approaching his own pleasure, and bucked her hips to encourage his release.

He succumbed to his orgasm, collapsing and holding her as he came inside her, just like always. She held him as he worked through his cloudy minded stage, whispering soft affirmations and kissing his face sweetly. He absentmindedly reached for the cloth in his discarded pants, cleaning her up. He left soft kisses on her neck.

After a moment, his head lifted. His tone was quiet.

“Clarice?”

“My love?”

“Do you think you’ll give the bull another try?”

“You want to go another round?”

He grinned wickedly at her, and something in her knew what to expect.

“No, Clarice. I want you to ride my face.”

She smiled back, gently flipping them and looking down at him.

Her hips began to shift forward, and Hannibal reached for them, eager.

“I think that can be arranged, Cowboy.”

#clannibal #clarice starling #hannibal lecter #hannibal #the silence of the lambs #sotl #silence of the lambs #hannibal x clarice #anthony hopkins #thomas harris tetralogy #thomas harris #clarice x hannibal #hannibal 2001 #jodie foster

96 notes · View notes

makeste · 3 years ago

Text

BnHA 326: What’s up Kids, It’s Me, Your Old Pal Stain

Previously on BnHA: Ochako shamed the U.A. Clown Mob into letting Deku go back inside his own fucking school by giving them an hour-long speech about how not to be humongous dickheads. Kouta and Gigantic Fox Lady saved the manga by being the only ones brave enough to give Deku a hug. Shouto was all “man, all this togetherness sure does remind me of that promise you made that we would handle Touya together which you immediately bailed on, doesn’t it, Dad.” Aizawa was all, “for the one and a half people out there who thought that my losing an eye and a leg might actually make me less sexy, I’m very happy to prove you wrong.” All Might was all, “[standing outside the U.A. fortress alone in the rain talking to someone or something??].” Like seriously, what was up with that though.

Today on BnHA: All Might is all “here I am in Kamino having a belated mid-life crisis because Deku abandoned me and I’m a terrible mentor and everything sucks and I hate myself.” Stain is all, “don’t make me come over there and give you a ten page speech about why you’re still the goat while menacingly holding you at swordpoint the entire time” because idk if you knew this guys, but Stain is pretty crazy actually. Anyway so he does that, and then All Might gets all emotional, and then the lady from chapter 92 shows up and gives All Might’s statue an encouraging pep talk, and then Horikoshi is all “and it even stopped raining lol can you believe this shit I’m not even a little bit subtle,” and he really isn’t. But I still got emotional anyway, because seeing people reassure All Might that everything he’s struggled for his entire life hasn’t been in vain just got to me okay. Horikoshi knows I am weak to the All Might feels and he just goes for the jugular every time, that bastard.

lmao. “in the neverending downpour, All Might is...” yeah, thank you, glad we’re getting right to that then

“All Might is driving 95 mph in his busted ass car in the pouring rain, is what he’s doing.” huh

so basically a day or two after his adopted child refused to accept the handmade bento that he packed with love, my man is out here acting like he’s got nothing to live for anymore. this sure bodes well for certain prophecies on which the clock is still ominously ticking down

his fucking face though omg. is it weird that I’m kind of hoping more people ambush him just because I think it’d be funny to see them get their asses kicked like the last bunch

(ETA: or maybe he will just stand there openly not giving a fuck and basically daring them to stab him!! get it together please All Might.)

side note, “anti-hero supporters” is such a strange way of saying “people who hate heroes”, which I’m assuming is what they actually wanted to say?? this makes it sound like it’s a group that really loves antiheroes. “these Hannibal stans have been a real menace lately. time to go deal with them”

ha ha ha, fucking ouch

are you really gonna do it Horikoshi you bastard. are you really going to let that be the final encounter between the two characters whose relationship you once described as the vertical axis of the entire fucking story. are you really gonna?? huh??

huh

you’re telling me you were driving 112 mph and you still didn’t get there in time. you’re losing your touch old man. lol Todo’s ice is almost fully melted already, how late were you

(ETA: so apparently this is taking place after the end of chapter 325, meaning he went to U.A., hung out for a bit, saw the kids come back with his bedraggled half-dead protégé in tow, watched as they shamed the civilians into some long-overdue character development, and then was all “welp, time to go argue with the hero-hating faction or something because I’m feeling useless.” and Edge just let him go, just like that. though to be fair I have to imagine it’s pretty hard to say no to All Fucking Might.)

also belated lol at the fact that the kids were all “yeahhhhhhh we are definitely not gonna touch that thing, let’s just leave it here, he doesn’t need it anyway.” probably the right call to make since they couldn’t get a hazmat team on such short notice

fuck. ha ha ha fucking ouch part two

All Might please put that thing down before you get gangrene. also yeah, you dropped the ball, good for you to acknowledge it. nobody’s perfect and you did your best. but yeah you could have handled a lot of things completely differently. but I still love you

is Horikoshi really putting this flashback here. are you serious. what kind of fucking sadist

look, I swear I’m not one of those people that runs up and down the street shouting “DEATH FLAG!!” at every third panel lol. but this shit screamed Death Flag when we originally got it, and it’s screaming DEATH FLAG!!! even more now. like with the capital letters and exclamation marks and all. and that’s just a fact. I don’t like it but that’s how it is

ffkdjslk

“DID YOU READ THE SIGN??!” Horikoshi asks while zooming in maniacally because he thinks we’re blind or something. lol what

-- though actually, it only just occurred to me that this sign is actually written in English. I never really paid attention up until now and had been assuming it was written in Japanese and translated by the scanlators, but the writing here is clearly part of the original image. anyway so maybe that’s why he’s zooming in?? just to make sure everybody pays attention lol

okay fuck this

see, this is the whole problem right here. once again All Might is all on his own. Deku’s self-destructive angst spiral was fortunately brought to a grinding halt because he actually has support from his friends and family and teachers and classmates. but All Might never had that same kind of support, and it’s made all the difference between the two of them, and not in a good way. Katsuki wasn’t wrong when he said All Might and Deku were both cut from the same cloth. but now when it’s All Might’s turn to go all “I WALK A LONELY ROAD~~” once again, there’s nobody in sight

just, after forty plus years of him carrying this torch, I just wish someone would finally come along to let him know he doesn’t have to. all those things that he wanted to say to Deku are also things that he needs and deserves to hear himself. Aizawa was making a little progress there, but now he’s got his sad zombie cloud boyfriend situation to deal with, and we can’t expect him and his perfect hair to solve all our problems. someone else has gotta step up

oh my god

“you rang?” never mind I take it all back sob

omg why am I laughing. shit

this man truly has the best PR game in the series. we were truly convinced he was gonna suddenly become a good guy and defend All Might against the other villains or some nonsense. as if this wasn’t the same man who decided on a whim that Iida Tensei deserved to be paralyzed, and that his fifteen-year-old brother deserved to die for daring to be upset about it

lol even All Might is all “I genuinely never saw this coming” lmao

just want to say, for the record, I have always harbored a very sensible hatred toward Stain. feeling very vindicated right now. good job Past Me

adsfklwkfsdwgkj

ffffwefjslkg. ghsdlkg. dsfkkkslkjldwkjrg

STAIN: heard you talking shit old man

ME: smh that’s what I thought you’d say you dumb fucking Stain

STAIN: how dare you talk about All Might that way

ME: gljfljgk

(ETA: in hindsight I have no idea how I didn’t clue in sooner that he didn’t recognize him -- or, well, ~didn’t recognize~ him, to be more accurate lol. I think it was the whole “is that a slight against the heroes?” thing that threw me. Viz’s translation makes it much clearer that he’s offended on behalf of All Might specifically, not heroes in general. anyways.)

sob. so All Might is all “yeah I don’t blame you for not recognizing me in this sweet leather jacket”

good thing he still knows how to do this party trick

A+ reflexes on Stain’s part presumably pulling the sword back a few inches to keep this dumbass from impaling himself with his whole pufferfish routine. can you imagine if that was the gruesome death Nighteye foresaw. and he was just too embarrassed to say anything

lol anyways guess I was wrong about Stain everyone

way to fucking go, Past Me. you really biffed this one

oh wait

Stain sure is one wacky rollercoaster ride

oh fuck me lol I forgot how much I did not miss this

(ETA: “this here is the sacred ground where All Might gave up the last of his power and turned into a shriveled old man!! please ignore the part where I admit to knowing all about that, and yet pretend not to recognize said man when he’s standing two feet in front of me.”)

Past Me, I know we’ve had our ups and downs these past ninety seconds, but I’m really starting to think you were on to something. this dude has always been kind of insufferable. always acting like his high horse is a fucking giraffe when it’s actually a Shetland pony

dammit now he’s got All Might going off on a depressed monologue

oh my god my heart

shit

why the fuck does that hit so hard. he became a hero because he couldn’t bear to just sit back and let bad things happen to people who didn’t deserve it. I mean that’s basically the same as every hero ever, right? so why does it still hit so fucking hard every single time though. what is it about seeing someone so determined to stand up for other people and fight on their behalf. it just never loses its impact no matter how many times I see that determination mirrored in so many of my favorite characters

“I wanted to make the world a better place.” omg. but you did, though. like seriously, I feel like people are always dogging on him for not being 100% perfect, and fandom really doesn’t give him enough credit for everything he still managed to accomplish. this man came of age at a time when Japan was by all accounts a total shitshow, and singlehandedly managed to bring about an era of peace that lasted for four fucking decades. can you imagine having peace for that long?? that’s longer than I’ve been alive. shit

and he gave people hope. he inspired them and protected them and made them feel safe. and no, he couldn’t save everyone, because he’s only one fucking dude (and also because the whole time AFO was also out there desperately working to undermine him so that he could keep preaching his narrative of “heroes are bad actually”). but you know what he did do, is inspire multiple new generations of heroes who, if they can all manage to work together, will finally be able to accomplish everything he never could

so yeah. forty years of peace, and inspired the “that’s how we all became the greatest heroes” generation -- that’s a fucking win in my book. talk about having a net positive impact on the world. lol anyways now I’m all fired up and ready to fight anyone who tries to talk any shit about you, All Might

“but what if I talk shit about myself” okay listen up All Might I’m gonna need you to try just a little bit harder to work with me here okay. please calm down and stop blaming yourself for every single bad thing that’s ever happened in the world. do you remember that time Bakugou was blaming himself for Kamino, and you gave him a hug and told him it wasn’t his fault, and that he was only a boy, and that even though he was strong, even strong people can struggle with the burdens they place on themselves, and that you were sorry for not seeing that earlier? do you remember all of that? that’s what I want someone to tell you too, dammit. anyway please stop breaking my heart please and thanks

wtf

are you dead All Might

I don’t even have the slightest idea what’s happening lol

oh snap did he grab him so they could hide??

hold the fucking phone. don’t tell me this person in the background with the umbrella is here to actually do something decent??

oh my godddd

and here come the feels. oh boy. okay don’t mind me, I’m just gonna sit here sobbing over this fictional lady and her simple act of kindness in this weekly shounen manga that I care about way too much

FUCKING DAMMIT AND HERE’S A SECOND HELPING

DON’T MIND ME, I’M JUST GETTING DISPROPORTIONATELY EMOTIONAL OVER THIS WOMAN’S DETERMINATION TO HONOR A MAN WHO SACRIFICED EVERYTHING TO SAVE HER AND COUNTLESS OTHERS. I’M JUST HAVING SOME FEELS OVER HERE ABOUT HER HEARTFELT, DOESN’T-EVEN-KNOW-ANYONE-ELSE-IS-WATCHING FEELINGS OF GRATITUDE THAT COMPELLED HER TO COME OUT HERE AND MAKE THIS SMALL BUT POWERFUL GESTURE. I’M JUST OUT HERE GETTING ALL PROFOUNDLY WORKED UP ABOUT STATUE MAINTENANCE AND THE HUMAN RACE. NEVER MIND. JUST IGNORE ME AND CARRY ON

holy shit. I was not even remotely prepared. you can’t just do that to me. you can’t just leave all these death flags on my lawn and then suddenly shift gears to show me the best of humanity in a chapter where I was expecting the worst. that fucks a person up lol

OH ARE WE STILL GOING

my heart. you see that, All Might. your legacy is so much more powerful and meaningful than you think

...has. has Stain actually been giving All Might a pep talk this entire time

I give up lol. this dude is a fucking enigma

YAYYY

it may just be a metaphor panel, but I’ll take it lol. I missed them. nice to see the traffic light trio front and off-center. I know the whole “this is the story of how we all became the greatest heroes” thing had left some questioning whether certain characters would continue to play a central role in the narrative, and hopefully this will help to ease those concerns just a bit

anyway, so idk if it’s getting a bit chilly down there in hell, but damned if Stain didn’t just give an actual decent fucking speech

I have to say, earlier when I was whining about All Might not having a support squad, I really was not expecting Stain to be the one to come over and pat his head and reassure him that he made the world a better place

-- okay LISTEN

YOU CAN’T JUST COME INTO MY HOUSE AND HIT ME WITH THOSE ALL MIGHT TEARS AGAIN GODDAMMIT THIS ISN’T FAIR. my god. first 317 and now this

holy fucking shit

“I’m just gonna pretend like I haven’t been stalking him for two days and didn’t see the entire Deku bentogate thing go down, and then I’ll give him the whole big speech that I rehearsed, and then I’ll turn around and be all ‘BUT IF YOU’RE A TRUE HERO’, and then I’ll toss him the super-secret AFO wifi password that I stole from Tartarus. god I’m such a badass. fucking give myself chills”

so basically what you’re telling me is that this whole time my “what’s up kids” characterization of Stain from this shitpost has actually been 100% accurate. just want to make sure I’m understanding this right. okay then

“and then I’ll dramatically spin around and be all NOW COME KILL ME BITCH”

it must be so much fun to write Stain. drawing this coked-out maniac who talks like a chatbot that was trained to speak by reading Alan Moore monologues. that must be a trip

anyway so All Might is still crying, the awesome lady from chapter 92 is admiring her handiwork totally oblivious to the batshit insanity going on fifty meters to her right, and it’s finally stopped raining lol

“THE RAIN WAS A METAPHOR YOU SEE” yes, yes, we got it lol. thanks for that Horikoshi. don’t think we needed any help putting the pieces together on that one but I appreciate the effort

so that’s the end! and as I mentioned in another post, I had the count off by one chapter, but next week should be cliffhanger week! so break out your U.A. Traitor bingo cards, friends and fiends. either that or something else happens that I’m completely not expecting at all. which, based on my success rate with Stain predictions, I’d say is more than likely lol

mmm but anyway, so now that the Hug Deku 2021 campaign has finally come to an end, what’s it gonna take to get a hug for my struggling bento-preparing jacket-rocking world-weary death-flag-waving husband who is the worthiest man to ever live and deserves the fucking world, goddammit

#bnha 326 #all might #yagi toshinori #stain (bnha)#bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

264 notes · View notes

slasherscream · 5 years ago

Note

You don't have to if you feel uncomfortable but may I have a request where JD, Hannibal, Billy and Candyman react when they found out the woman they love who always cares and smiles for others, just a ball of sunshine coming from a dysfunctional broken home. Even when they find her with a black eye due to an argument, she still smiles and ensures she's fine

Jason Dean

JD never saw it coming. He figured you came from some perfect, little suburban dream family. A loving Mother, a doting Father he didn’t know what else could produce someone like you but a stable home life.

He had a childhood that was less than ideal, putting it lightly, and you two shared almost nothing in common. Where he was pessimistic you were looking on the bright side. When he pointed out the nastiness in others you’d somehow find a way to make him see the good in the people around you two as well.

Though sometimes he thought you were a little naive it endeared him to you more than you could know. No matter what he did you’d come back swinging with that positive, happy-go-lucky outlook and it was beginning to rub off on him, just a little.

He smiled more when you were around. Everything felt more worthwhile. That was, of course, when the illusion went tumbling down.

He crawled through your window ready to see you and surprise you as he’d gotten your address from one of your many friends at school.

He climbed through the window he guessed was yours only to find you curled up on your bed, clutching your pillow and trying to block out the sounds of loud fighting going on downstairs.

Multiple voices screaming back and forth, you flinching at every sound bleeding through your door. But that wasn’t the worst of it. The worst was when he made a noise finishing coming through and you turned to look at him, startled.

Your eye was swollen and already beginning to discolor but immediately upon seeing the expression on his face (rage and heartbreak mixing together) you raced to him trying to reassure him you were fine.

He asked who touched you but you just kept reassuring him that everything was fine. You hugged him close and tried to soothe his nerves, all the while, the fighting downstairs got louder.

You can say it’s fine all you want but JD will never forget and he’ll get his answer eventually. He’ll punish your family for hurting you all these years when there was no one around to protect you. You were everything that was good about the world, and if he had to burn it to ash to see you safe and happy the way you deserved to be? He’d do it in a heartbeat.

Hannibal Lecter

Hannibal is probably the closest to seeing something off right from the start of things.

It’s not that you aren’t convincing, or even that you’re faking your joy and general love for the world around you. He hates people that aren’t genuine and he can sniff them out easily.

It’s just that sometimes there is a sadness to you that he is always trying to trace back to something. You are a puzzle that he is trying to solve and somewhere along the line he falls in love with you.

He notices how you dance around the topic of family, keeping your comments vague and going a bit quiet whenever he brings up wanting to meet the people who’d raised such a wonderful, young woman.

For some reason his mind does not jump straight to abuse. There are plenty of strained parental relationships that are not out right abusive and outside of those tiny moments where you seem to break a little at the seams you’re so bright.

Love is blind, he’d thought the expression only true for others, he hadn’t ever imagined himself being in love in the first place. He couldn’t have imagined his own assumptions towards you blinding him to the obvious.

When you show up to a lunch date with him wearing sunglasses he tries to spend the meal ignoring them but finally asks, for the sake of manners, for you to remove them as you are at the table. He’d never known you to be rude.

Slowly you take them off and the world goes still. Your face is pointed downwards towards the table but it doesn’t stop him from being able to see your eye. He rushes from his side of the table to cup your face and everything clinks into place immediately.

“Who did this to you, dearest?” his voice is devoid of judgement, calm the way he is during his sessions. But inside he’s engulfed with rage.

“My (family member) didn’t mean to. Our fights just get so bad and I’m always making them so angry-” He pushes your head into his chest, stopping your onslaught of excuses for a person who wouldn’t be in the land of the living very much longer. There was no need for you to think of them anymore.

Billy Loomis

What draws him to you is how good you are. At first it annoys him because he thinks you’re faking it. No one could possibly be as sweet and kind as you’re pretending to be.

He can stand few things less than he can stand a fake and at first, frankly, his interest in you is finding out everything he can about you so he can kill you and mentally torture you while he does it.

It’s while he’s learning everything he can about you and stalking you that he starts to fall in love with you, little by little. Stu keeps asking him when they’re going to off you and he keeps answering ‘not yet’ every time. Eventually Stu stops asking and starts to focus on the next victim.

Billy doesn’t lose focus. He can’t think of anything but you. He starts stalking you more and more, the need to see you and hear you only worsening by the minute.

Eventually he gets sloppy and slips up and you see him. You’re walking alone at night for some reason in a town with an active serial killer but you look like there’s no other place you’d rather be. He wonders why you don’t go home but just barely, he’s grateful you’re usually so easy to keep track of.

When you spot him you recognize him from school and call out to him. He’s got no choice but to approach you casually, pretending he’s also out for a late night walk. “We should walk together to be safe!” Before he knows it you’re looping your arm through his and walking together.

You stay out nearly the whole night together and he asks you out the very next day. It’s not long before he’s calling you his girlfriend and stalking you less. You spend so much time with him he’s actually pretty secure in the relationship and what you mean to each other. Sometimes he’ll do it just to check up on you but it becomes a rarity.

One night he follows you home, just to make sure you get there without incident, and he starts hearing strange loud noises from inside the house. He sneaks into your bedroom window just to make sure you’re okay. You run in crying right as he’s making his way to the door, clutching the side of your face protectively.

He’s on you in a second, locking the door and prying your hands away. You don’t have time to ask him what he’s doing there before he sees the early signs of your eye bruising and falls into shell-shocked silence.

With more gentleness than you knew he was capable of he kissed your head, got out a bag, and began to pack away some of your things. You watch him quietly, trying to convince him it’s okay but he silences you with one intense look that he disappears quickly, replaced by the saddest eyes you’ve ever seen. “I’m gonna take care of you, okay?” He crosses the room, cupping your face gently, thumb grazing the skin beneath your bruised eye.

Once he’s done packing he guides you carefully out the window and into his car. He’s going to take you to Stu’s where he intends to share their big secret. Then he and Stu are going to make a night out of killing your family.

Candyman

He is a spirit, roaming and untethered, when he sees you and is first struck dumb by your beauty. He never thought he’d love again but the minute he sets eyes on you he knows he can grow to love you. That he could cherish you for the rest of your natural life and beyond.

He wants you. Needs you. He begins to visit you in dreams. Never nightmares. In your dreams he is a princely figure that loves you already, that has loved you more than anyone in your entire life.

You’ve never slept better than in the months where he woos you, and makes you fall in love with him, this phantom created by your own mind.

Part of you thinks you’re going crazy. How could you be falling in love with a man that isn’t real? But you’re a romantic and can’t deny the pull you feel within yourself. They may be only dreams but they make you happy. Daniel, makes you happy.

You don’t have to wonder for long if you’re losing your mind because he whispers to you in a dream that he can be real. Real as flesh and blood if you say a name three times in a mirror. Candyman.

You wake up the next morning feeling silly but can’t help doing it. Part of you desperately hoping that your escape from your real life could become your real life, if there was really some magic in the world.

It works of course and the minute you feel his arms around you, you start to cry tears of joy. But you’d forgotten about the fight you had with your family the night before. In your dreams you are always perfect and beautiful, your skin unmarred by the abuse you endure every day. But now, away from your dreams, Robert can see that someone has dared to harm you. His love. His darling.

He doesn’t need you to tell him who’s done this. One look at you and he seems to know. He knows you better than anyone else.

His hand, the human one, the one that isn’t for killing or hurting, touches gently your damaged skin. He presses a kiss to your forehead.

He has been summoned and there’s a price of blood to be paid.

#hannibal lecter x reader #jd x reader #billy loomis x reader #candyman x reader #slasher x reader #LOVED THIS SPICY PROMPT #revenge upon your family nonny!!!#Anonymous

2K notes · View notes

darling-i-read-it · 4 years ago

Text

Ko No Mono

2x11

Hannibal Lecter x reader x Will Graham

Hannibal Re-Write Series Masterlist

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: spoilers for hannibal, murder, dead bodies,, will being hot as fuck

Author’s Note: I’ve made my bed now i have to lie in it. I still haven’t actually seen your guys reaction to the last episode at the tiem of writing this so hopefully it blowed over okay lol. I love Will and Hannibal dudes.

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

Official Episode Summary :Jack and his team discover the truth of Freddie Lounds' disappearance, Will tells Alana to arm herself; Mason suspects his sister intends to usurp him and Hannibal shows Will how much Abigail reminded him of his sister.

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

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

(not my gif)

You woke up slowly this time, a nightmare less sleep. Unfortunately you felt Will beside you and you could hear how loud he was breathing. You turned around and grabbed his arm to ground him. You waited for a minute as he caught his breath and then he laid back down on the pillow before wrapping his arms around you, his head resting on your chest.

You pet his hair and wordlessly, as though in tune, the two of you fell back asleep. Whatever dream he had was not worth talking about right now.

You sat beside Will. Will sat directly across from Hannibal as he dished up your food. It was an interesting one this time around, confusing. Everything Hannibal made confused you but you were used to it at this point.

“Among gourmands, the ortolan bunting is considered a rare-but-debauched delicacy. A rite of passage, if you will,” aHannibal said, sneaking a smile to both of you. “Preparation calls for the songbird to be drowned alive in Armagnac. It is then roasted and consumed whole in a single mouthful.”

“Ortolans are endangered,” Will stated.

“He’s right,” you said.

“Who amongst us is not?” Hannibal asked. You shook your head but you weren’t about to deny a Hannibal made dish.

“I have been gorged, drowned, plucked and roasted. Not yet,” Will said simply.

“Traditionally, during this meal, we’re to place shrouds over our heads, hiding our faces from God,” Hannibal said. “I don't hide from God.” You smiled a bit at his audacity. You picked up the bird and so did Will.

“Bones and all?” Will questioned.

“Bones and all.”

You and Will both ate it all in one bite. Your eyes locked with Hannibals as you did so. You swallowed after a moment.

“After my first ortolan, I was euphoric. A stimulating reminder of our power over life and death,” Hannibal said.

“I was euphoric when I killed Freddie Lounds,” you told him. Your mind wandered. Your hands around her neck. Will beside you.

“Did your heart race when you did it?”

“No,” Will said.

“Not a bit,” you retorted.

Hannibal smiled at the two of you. You were growing in his mind, evolving. This was his design and he was liking the way it was threaded.

You stood in the morgue, the charred body of Freddie Lounds in front of you.

“Freddie Lounds ultimate failure was her inability to keep herself out of her own stories,” Jack said.

You smiled.

“Freddie had the longing need to be noticed,” you stated.

“She was noticed,” Will finished.

You were fuming. Absolutely fuming. You were in the room with Hannibal, Will and Margot Verger. She sat in the chair across from Hannibal but you and Will were standing. You didn’t even have the heart to sit on the desk like you usually did you were so pissed.

“There’s no baby. Isn’t even an embryo yet. I’ve got hormones in my pee. That’s the extent of it. But here I am, feeling maternal,” Margot said.

“We’re discussing a small group of cells. Barely life, but immediately seen to be life-changing,” Hannibal said in his physiatrist voice. You had your arms crossed and despite the fact you were pissed, your face was in a careful poker face.

“I feel like everything that was done to me can almost be undone,” Margot said.

“Through children we can disrupt our own sense of the past. We can protect them in ways we weren’t,” Hannibal inquired. You were pissed at him too. You weren’t sure why but you were sure it would come up eventually.

“Life eventually bounces back Margot.”

“I could be good to a child. I’ll go to parenting classes,” she said like she was pleased with herself.

“You’ve conspired with your unborn child to liberate yourself and you’ve made Will and Y/N an unknowing accomplice,” Hannibal said.

“I got what I wanted from Will, but I didn’t understand what I was taking until the strip turned blue. Y/N was just a happy accident. I thought you were single, honestly and I’m not proud of myself,” she explained. You raised your finger to her and Will grabbed it before it slapped her in the face.

“Nor should you be. You said-” Will started.

“I lied,” she finished.

You felt like you were mourning something that you figured was yours. You stared at Margot and saw the mother of your boyfriend's baby. You had one night of slippage and here was the result. Margot Verger. The Vergers.

“You’re just as bad as your brother,” you hissed. “And did you know?” you asked Hannibal.

“I was aware of Margot’s goal of having a child. I was not aware of the means to achieve it.”

“What do you want from us?” Will asked. Still using ‘us’. It was after he said that he realized this could ruin any relationship he had with you. He didn’t even know if you wanted kids but someone else having his child was surely a dent. He looked over at you and you couldn’t even look at him. In fact, the only person you could look at was Hannibal.

“Little or nothing or as much as you’d like to give,” Margot said simply. You shook your head and left the room to your desk.

You sat there and shut the door behind you. You knew you shouldn’t be mad at Will. You did it together and it was a joint decision, granted it was not really talked about. A spur of the moment, completely calculated thing. You stared at your computer, the blank black screen that reflected you back at you.

Margot walked out and you stood up, refusing to show any emotion.

“I hope you’re pleased,” you said simply. Will left the office but you didn’t look at him.

“I’m sorry,” she said. You wanted to strangle the life out of her but instead you just walked past her and Hannibal to the office, shutting the door behind you. You walked over to the chair you promised yourself you would never sit at and you sat in it. Hannibal was still sitting at his chair.

You stared at each other.

“You swear to me you didn’t know,” you muttered.

“I did not know,” he said. “I had no idea you were bisexual.” You shook your head but you had bigger problems.

“It was a spur of the moment thing. Will and I had just…” you trailed off. “I was in the wrong headspace for her to have conniving plans.” You stared at Hannibal and stood up. “I don’t like those chairs,” you whispered. You walked over and finally sat on the desk. Hannibal got up.

“Has Will left?”

“He’s presumably waiting for me in the car.” You looked up at Will and tears pricked your eyes. “It’s not his fault,” you promised. Hannibal leaned against the desk beside you.

“But you believe that this will change things.” You whipped the few stray tears.

“Shouldn’t it? I mean come on, wouldn’t it be weird if I was having your child but you were with Alana?” Hannibal laughed dryly at the comparison. You took a deep breath. “I don't even know if I want kids but...that was supposed to be my kid,” you whispered. “Will and I were gonna have that family, the family that has now started between him and Margot Verger.”

Hannibal wiped your tears away with his thumb. He was now standing directly in front of you, looking down at you as you sat.

“Will loves you,” he promised. “And cares about you more than I would care about Alana in your analogy.” You nodded and he hugged you. You pressed your head against his chest.

“I just have to talk to him,” you whispered. He nodded.

“But your emotions are valid. Don’t forget that.” Hannibal pet your hair but he felt your emotions hitting a hard chord.

This wasn’t good.

The car ride home was interesting. Silence. Uncomfortable silence. That wasn’t something that you and Will were quite accustomed to. You got into the house and immediately locked yourself in the bathroom to catch your breath. You stared in the mirror and imagined how Will must be feeling.

Excitement to be a father? Going through things you were supposed to feel together one day?

You opened the door and Will sat on the bed. You walked over and sat beside him, looking at your hands.

“What does this mean?” you asked.

“If we have any more threesomes I should probably wear protection.”

“Good advice overall however I don't’ see many more threesomes in our future,” you whispered. He wasn’t sure what you meant by that. Did you mean just in general or that you wouldn’t be together at all?

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“I should be asking you how you’re feeling, father to be,” you said, voice breaking. You hid your emotions as best you could.

“Y/N…”

“It was meant to be us,” you whispered. “The two of us. Not you and Margot Verger.” He nodded and looked over at you. “Do you want me here now that you’re having a kid with her?” The dreaded question.

“Of course I want you here,” he said quickly. “I’ll always want you here.” You looked over at him. “Do you want to be here?” You nodded even quicker.

“I do.”

He hugged you tightly and you wrapped your legs around his waist as you sat on the bed. You buried your face in his shoulder. The battle wasn’t over but at least you knew you had each other.

“After Abigail,” he whispered. “I dream about her. I dream about teaching her to fish,” he told you. You nodded. You felt maternal to Abigail as well.

“And Hannibal....” He nodded, pulling away from you a bit. “Robbed that from us.”

“Yeah. He did.”

Will grabbed your arm. He was sweating, it was even showing on your pajama shirt. There was a knock on the door that had woken him up from a nightmare.

“You okay?” you whispered. He nodded.

“Who is that?”

“If it’s Margot Verger again I’ll drown her in the sink.” Will got up and walked to the door as you grabbed him a robe. You could hear from the back room that it was Alana.

“I guess I’m trying to convince myself of something. Or maybe I’m trying to convince you. Or maybe I don't know why I’m here,” she said. You walked up to the door.

“I know why. You’re worried I killed Freddie Lounds.”

“Did you?” Alana asked. She looked at you and you looked at her. Your friendship had unfortunately dissolved over time. She seemed so pensive now.

“What do you think?” Will asked.

“I think that’s the wrong answer to tell somebody who is already wondering what you’re capable of,” Alana said. Will turned to you.

“Can you make us some coffee?”

“Two or three cups?”

“Two,” he said bluntly. You nodded and walked into the house but you could still be here.

“I know you’re lying to me. You’ve slipped into some kind of skin and I think it fits you a little too well,” she said.

“I told everyone Hannibal was a killer and no one believed me. Just like no one would believe you if you said I was a killer,” Will said and you smiled as you started to make coffee.

“I'm afraid, Will. But not of you. I'm afraid for you. I don't think Hannibal is good for you. I think your relationship is destructive.”

“Hannibal's good enough for you.” You almost clapped at that but you contend to pretend you weren’t listening.

“You should be afraid. You’re right to be afraid.”

Alana Bloom stood back at Freddie’s funeral. You were with Will but you wanted to talk to her first so you told him to wait back. You walked up to her and she let out a small sigh at your presence.

“I’m here to mourn Freddie Lounds. Can’t imagine it’s why you’re here,” she muttered.

“I’m here in support of my boyfriend. His psychiatrist recommended he come.” Alana looked over at you.

“They aren’t who you think they are. You may think that you know Hannibal Lecter but you don’t. I don’t think anyone does,” she said. Almost like a warning.

“Says the girl sleeping with him,” you whispered teasingly. “I know Hannibal better than you know him Alana. And I know Will better than that. You may think you’re right about every single thing Alana but I can assure you, you are not.” You whispered. She let out a huff. She can’t imagine herself being wrong.

She walked away.

You sat in the room with Will and Hannibal. You sat on the desk while they sat in the chairs, reminiscent of old times.

“I’ve been so preoccupied with taking a life, I’m having trouble wrapping my head around making one,” he muttered.

“You and Y/N have never discussed it?” You shrugged.

“Not often. We’ve always had other things on our minds,” you admitted. “Just that if it happened it was in the future.”

“When men become fathers, they undergo biochemical changes that affect the way they think,” Hannibal explained.

“You said the same thing happens when men become killers,” Will inquired.

“Fatherhood is not always a nurturing role. Fathers can be killers. In protecting a child, things trapped inside a man for years fly free, ready to explode in pain. And dangerous behavior. What sort of father would you be?” Hannibal questioned.

“He’d be a good father,” you said quietly, answering for him.

“How quickly we form attachments to something that does not yet exist,'' Hannibal whispered. You and Hannibal shared a look.

You stood beside Will at a crime scene. This one was not yours. This was Hannibals. Freddie Lounds was put into a religious figure.

“What connection do Freddie Lounds and Randall Tier have?” Jack asked.

“The Grahams. Randall Tier was their suspect and Hannibal’s patient,” Alana said. She looked to be having a tough time. “Freddie was investigating his murder when she died.

“Freddie was investigating a lot of things when she died,” Will said.

“This is a psychopath who has incubated fantasies of killing is translating them into action. He’s building himself up. Or somebody’s building him up,” Alana said. You and Will shared a look.

Jack Crawford would be showing Alana Bloom Freddie tonight. Freddies body, alive, completely and utterly alive. You and Will did not kill her. Alana was breaking and Jack would show her that you and Will were not the murderers she thought you were.

Technically.

“This is a courtship,” Alana whispered.

When you got word about Margot you were silent. You went with Will to the hospital silently.

You stared at Margot Verger, without a child now, silently.

Hannibal approached you and while Will immediately left you strayed for a moment. You looked over at him and you shared a look.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

“I did nothing but suggest simple actions.” You nodded and grabbed his hand as you turned away. You held it for a moment. Then you followed Will.

Mason Verger watched his pigs. Will walked up to him and held him over the edge. You looked at him, waiting from behind. You had taken out the guard, per request. You didn’t want the child and you were relieved it was gone. That being said, you would likely back Will in anything he wanted to do.

“You think it was Margot’s idea to have an heir? Think it was your idea to take it from her? My idea to come here and kill you? What you, your sister and I all have in common is the same psychiatrist,” Will said. He brought Mason back to the ground and you raised a gun to his head.

“Aren’t you his secretary?” Mason questioned. “Oh you and baby daddy!” He paused. “Margot messed with the wrong throuple.”

“If Hannibal had his dithers, you’d be wrapped around a bullet,” you said. You put the gun down.

“He’s the one you should be feeding to your pigs,” Will finished.

2x12

#hannibal lecter x reader #will graham x reader #will graham imagines #hannibal lecter imagines #hannibal lecter x reader x will graham #will graham x reader x hannibal lecter #hannibal imagines

203 notes · View notes

brywrites · 4 years ago

Text

Flight Risk IX

Summary: An answer to the age old CM question, “who’s flying the plane?” And the story of a pilot and a profiler. Part IX: In which a profiler and a pilot try their best not to care, featuring an incredibly tacky hotel.

(Series Masterlist) ( Previous | Next )

----

The case closes. When it’s time to go home, Reid sees her leaning against the wall of the hangar with a book. Their eyes meet. He stops walking, frozen to the ground. And in response, she walks away and disappears into the jet. Neither of them knows what to say. She gives herself over to the sky, he loses himself in paperwork. The jet has never felt so big. Like there are miles between them instead of just mere feet.

Y/N thinks of Peter Pan. “The moment you doubt whether you can fly you cease for ever to be able to do it.” She doesn’t know what they are to each other anymore. Are they still friends? Were they ever at all? Was Arthur right all along? Maybe she simply is made for staying, not with her airplane heart. Hopelessly circling, never quite finding a place to land.

Reid has never had to do this before, to hurt someone in this way. He’s not sure how to reach out to her after putting this distance in place. And so he doesn’t. It doesn’t ease the loneliness. Only Garcia notices the change, when he stops talking about her.

“She told you how she felt, didn’t she?” Penelope asks, her cheerful smile deflating. Reid averts his gaze. The pained look on Garcia’s face mirrors the ache in his chest. “Oh, Reid,” she says. “Do you really still believe that you’re not allowed to be happy?”

“But you looked so happy together,” Yeeqin laments when Y/N tells her what happened. “I just don’t get it.” She and her girlfriend Saoirse offer to key his car, an offer Y/N promptly refuses. They’re both hurting enough as is. And besides, knowing Yeeqin she’d vandalize the wrong car and need someone to bail her out. After the “graffiti incident of 2014,” Y/N has no interest in doing so again.

And so they stay away. Things return to the way they always were – pilots and profilers. Two separate worlds on the same G550 jet. The only exchanges are simply pleasantries or requests from the team to the pilots, but they never come from Reid. Or announcements about takeoff and landing that almost always come from Captain Dobson. On the rare occasions when Y/N’s voice floods into the cabin, he closes his eyes and lets himself imagine that she’s speaking only to him. Sometimes when the agents disembark from the plane, she watches him go from the cockpit window and tries to remember what it was like when they sat so close.

He stops arriving early. She stops reading in the hangar if she’s not on the jet. They both pretend it’s normal. They both pretend it’s possible for them not to care. That it’s easy, that it doesn’t bother them one bit to be apart like this. That it wasn’t better before.

Y/N goes to dinner at Arthur and Malik’s house. Martin and Theresa are there and she runs around the yard with their older children, Carolyn and Benedict, and coos over baby Douglas. They share cocktails and swap stories and it feels so good to be surrounded by her own team, this makeshift family of aviators. She has movie nights in with Yeeqin and goes out with her and Saoirse anytime they invite her along and it’s so nice to be among friends. But then Martin looks at Theresa with all the love in the world and Saoirse falls asleep on Yeeqin’s shoulder in the cab on the way home and it’s acutely apparent to her that something is missing in her life.

Reid distracts himself with work and with books and tells himself that he’s always been just fine this way, with words and obligations instead of laughter over takeout or meetings at coffee shops. But then he discovers Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close in his bottom desk drawer at work, the copy she’d loaned to him and he’d sworn he would remember to give back to her and suddenly he’s trying not to cry in the bullpen and he doesn’t quite know why.

She learns from Arthur, who knew him, that Spencer’s mentor has been killed. And she can see on their next case that he’s hurting. The sadness in his eyes, the exhaustion evident in his slumped posture makes her want to run to him and wrap him in a hug, hold him close like he held her that night on the couch. But she’s not supposed to care about him anymore.

He sees the way she looks back at him as she boards the jet that day, her eyes lingering on him for just a fraction too long, and he thinks that just maybe she’s going to say something to him. But she doesn’t and he’s not sure if he’s relieved or disappointed. Either way, Gideon’s death seems only to prove his theory – the people he loves get hurt.

When they come home from the bombing case in Indianapolis, he’s drained from a week of mourning and a grueling chess match with Rossi. As Reid stands in the hangar searching for his keys in his bag, he hears, “Doctor Reid,” and turns to see Captain Dobson standing a few feet away.

“Yes?” he asks.

The captain opens his mouth, falters, and then says, “I’m sorry for your loss.” The sentiment is confusing, as he already told Reid this as he boarded the plane three days earlier. But perhaps Dobson has forgotten the conversation. So he thanks the captain and continues on his way.

Y/N and Reid seek solace in their friends, in their books, in the places that make them feel safe. And they try so hard to convince their hearts that they don’t feel anything that they wonder if it was ever even real to begin with. And for a little while, they almost believe it.

But then comes Nashville.

---

“Did you see the picture Martin sent of baby Douglas in his pilot’s cap?” Y/N asks.

“I did,” Arthur says. “It was cute.”

“The cutest thing I’ve ever seen!” she insists. “I wish he could bring the kids by for a visit sometime, I’m sure they’d love to check out the jet. Do you remember being a kid and how they’d let you go visit the flight deck and see how a plane worked? And they’d give you those little plastic pilots wings?”

“Relics of a bygone era,” Arthur sighs. “I’m sure I still have a pair of PanAm Junior Pilot wings stashed in a box somewhere.” The millennium ushered in a new vision of aviation security and sharp pins and strangers in the cockpit simply aren’t considered protocol anymore. “How are we looking?”

Y/N glances at the altimeter and airspeed indicators. “Flying at 46,000 feet. Currently at Mach point nine. Should be about one hour and ten minutes to destination.”

“Let the cabin now we’ve reached out cruising altitude, will you?” Arthur asks. Typically it’s her job to shift the jet into cruise while Arthur makes the announcement, but she nods and takes the speaker.

“Good afternoon passengers, this is your co-pilot speaking. We’ve reached our cruising altitude of 46,000 feet. At this time please feel free to resume using electronic devices and move about the cabin. We expect to be landing in Nashville in about an hour. Skies are clear, should be smooth sailing ahead. In-flight refreshments will not be served, but you’re welcome to help yourselves to anything stocked in the galley.”

A part of her wonders if he thinks of her when he hears her voice. Not that it should matter anymore. Before she can lose herself in her own thoughts, Arthur asks, “Who Framed Roger Rabbit?”

“Lincoln,” she decides after a moment to think. “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?”

Arthur says, “The Terminator,” without missing a beat. The captain is well-versed in cinema, which makes Double Feature one of his favorite in-flight games. The first movie must always be a question, and whoever can come up with the best films in response is declared the winner. Arthur almost always wins, and it’s a challenge to think up films they haven’t already used.

“What’s Eating Gilbert Grape?”

“Hannibal.”

“That’s terrible,” Arthur laughs.

“Dude, Where’s My Car?”

“Brokeback Mountain.”

“Oof, that’s gonna be a long and sad trek to retrieve it,” she sighs. “I’m not prepared for that kind of emotional devastation.” But the game does help to take her mind off of what she’s really feeling. She can lose herself in words and not in wishes. They land GEFF gently on the tarmac in Nashville and when they pull around to the hangar, she doesn’t look out the side window. Y/N stares straight ahead at the horizon. The sky fades from deep royal blue to soft pale periwinkle where the distant skyline rises up to meet it and she loves every single shade in between.

Once the team has departed, she and Arthur walk through the cabin tidying up and making note of anything that needs to be cleaned or restocked prior to takeoff. Arthur won Double Feature (“O Brother Where Art Thou?” “Soylent Green.” “Oh, that is incredibly twisted!”) so it’s her turn to clean the bathroom. Fortunately a short flight like this means it’s fairly clean to begin with. She wipes sanitizes the sink and toilet, empties the paper towel bag, makes sure there’s enough soap and toilet paper. Garbage is deposited in the trash can at the back of the hangar and they return to Geff to grab their own go-bags.

“Listen, Y/L/N,” Arthur says as they lock the cockpit door. “About the IRT job.”

“Arthur,” she cuts him off. “I really don’t want to talk about this right now.” When he looks as though he’s about to protest she adds, “Please. I just want to go to hotel and take a nap and watch whatever silly romcom is on pay per view.”

He nods and says nothing more. They catch a rideshare from the airport together and she stares out the window at the buildings and billboards that line the roads. She already knows what she’s going to do about the offer. She made her decision after her conversation with Spencer. The choice was clear. But she doesn’t want to discuss it yet. She’s not ready.

They step into the lobby of the Graduate Hotel and her mouth falls open. It’s hideous. There’s a fuzzy tapestry – a fuzzy tapestry of a woman with a hat against a pink background that appears to be made out of the same material as a shag rug. The lamps at the concierge desk have hot pink floral patterns on them. A neon installation that looks similar to a vintage gas station sign announces vacancies in bright green and red light. The armchairs are blue velvet and the hanging lights look like tulle skirts. There’s too much happening at once.

“This is the ugliest hotel I’ve ever seen,” she says.

“Well the more affordable ones were nearly full – evidently this is a big weekend for admitted students at Vanderbilt – they had to double up all of the rooms for the team. But the Bureau managed to get us a discount here,” Arthur replies as they stand at the desk waiting for someone to check them in.

“I suppose a bunch of special agents wouldn’t blend in well at a place like this,” she admits. Hopefully they solve the case quickly and she’s not stuck here too long. True to her word she spends the first night relaxing in her room. The bathroom is beautiful – black walls with gold accents and a glass shower. The room itself is another story. The carpet is a rainbow of jewel-toned diamonds in a quilt-like pattern. The walls are pink and white striped, a candelabra sits next to a pink television. White curtains with a vibrant floral pattern line the window and form a hanging behind the bed. The bed, mercifully, has the standard white blankets and white pillows, though there is hot pink chevron quilt draped over the end and an eerie portrait of Dolly Parton stares at her from above the headboard. Y/N shudders.

Penelope Garcia calls her that evening. She’s waiting to hear back from the team and could use some virtual company. “I don’t even know if you’d like this place,” Y/N tells her. “It’s so garishly tacky. Like a sorority girl and her antique-collecting grandmother chose items from their storage closet at random.”

“Oh it can’t be that bad,” Garcia says.

“Penelope, I am ever the optimist. I love quirky, whimsical adventures. But this is something else. The Dolly Parton painting keeps staring at me, I swear!”

“Let me look it up.” There is the sound of fingers frantically typing on a keyboard. “Oh come on now, the lobby is way cute! And the patio? I just – oh. Oh my. Oh those rooms. You’re right. That’s bad. That’s very bad.”

“I told you!”

“That went from cute to crikey very quickly,” she agrees. After takeout for dinner and watching Serendipity, Y/N falls asleep under the unnervingly watchful eye of Dolly. The next day is completely free, and she heads out to explore the city. Wherever she ends up, she tries to take advantage of the adventures available to her. Just blocks from the hotel she discovers Nashville’s Parthenon – a full-scale replica of the Greek temple which hides an art museum inside. She wanders the galleries and stands at the entrance staring up at the pillars holding the roof up. What would it be like to visit the real thing? She wonders how many times the IRT has gone to Greece before. Maybe they’ll end up in Athens sometime this year.

Café Coco is the cutest coffee shop she’s seen in any city, and she grabs tea and a scone before returning to Centennial Park. Beneath the barely blossoming trees she sits and reads Dandelion Wine. It’s beautifully written and full of longing. That longing seeps through the pages and she can feel it in her bones. Nostalgia for times past and places far behind and things that cannot be. Everything that Spencer said it would be. As she reads she tries to imagine which lines would have made him smile or elicited a wistful sigh. Are the parts she loves most the same as the parts he loves most?

Her phone buzzes with a text form Arthur to ask if she wants to get lunch together at the hotel bar, and she shoves the book and her longing back in her bag and walks over to meet him.They step from the tacky lobby into a bar that seems remarkably normal. String lights and chandeliers cast an inviting ambient glow over the wooden tables and chairs. Country music is playing over the speakers. But as they she and Arthur move closer towards an open table, she sees it. The stage.

“What is that?” she asks. There’s a bear, a pig, and a fox in a wig atop a stage that says Cross-Eyed Critters. Each holds an instrument. And it’s then that she realizes the music is coming from them. It’s an animatronic band. Their eyes and mouths move as they sing and their fabricated bodies turn and jerk with the beat. “What?” she asks again, completely dumbfounded. “What?”

Arthur too is speechless. Then he shakes his head and says, “It’s nothing a drink or two won’t make more palatable.” She snaps a photo on her phone and texts it to Garcia, who will surely get a kick out of it.

As they sit down, a voice announces a new song over the speakers. A slightly tipsy looking man in a pair of red cowboy boots comes to stand in front of the stage. He has a microphone. The animatronics begin to play the opening notes of a song, and then the man begins to sing. This is not just a bar with an animatronic band, it’s an animatronic karaoke bar. The man in the red boots belts out an uncomfortably off-key version of a Kenny Rogers song –“You’ve got to know when to hold ‘em, know when to fold ‘em, know when to walk away and know when to run!”– with just a little too much bravado.

“I think I’ll need that drink sooner rather than later,” Arthur admits begrudgingly. She has to laugh. This hotel, it seems is full of surprises. But the captain is right. When she receives a spiked cream soda and Arthur has a glass of bourbon and there’s a plate of tacos between them, it’s easier to tune out the karaoke band. She can just enjoy her drink and the light and the stories of Arthur’s first flights with the BAU that have her nearly in tears from laughing so hard. For someone who maintains such a serious demeanor most of the time, he knows how to tell a joke incredibly well. She’s always appreciated that about him.

“Y/N, there is something I wanted to talk with you about,” Arthur says. His tone changes and she knows the time for joking is over. “We need to discuss the IRT offer.” Before he can continue, her phone rings. She glances at the screen. It’s Penelope. Y/N sends it to voicemail. There will be time to discuss the disconcerting robot band later when she’s back in her room. Right now, she needs to focus on Arthur. She knows where this is going and he’s right. She can’t keep putting this off forever. She has to talk about this, and everything that it means.

“I’ve already made my decision,” she begins to say. But her phone begins to ring again, and her heart drops into her stomach. This isn’t about the picture. This is urgent. Arthur must realize it too. His eyes trail down to her phone and she hesitantly picks it up.

“It’s Garcia,” she tells him, before answering. “Hello?”

“Y/N, oh thank goodness you picked up.” The analyst’s voice is a little higher than usual, a little more strained. “It’s Reid. He’s in the hospital.”

#flight risk #fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #imagine #reid x reader #spencer reid x reader

182 notes · View notes

queerhannibal · 5 years ago

Note

if hannibal and will’s roles were reversed in digestivo, do you think will would have saved hannibal?

Oh now this is a QUESTION thank you holy shit

My gut response is “no, but he would have regretted it every day for the rest of his life”

But honestly… I don’t think he would have just left Cordell and Mason alive and free and unhindered lol like At That Point something had to be done about them or they were gonna kill not only Hannibal but also the girls for helping Will escape and yk. They were already out there being the worst human being alive. He already wanted them dead. So I think that overall Will would end up going on a similar killing spree to what Hannibal did? He probably would make more effort to sneak rather than just butchering EVERYONE but. He would kill or at least severely maim a lot of people, including Mason and Cordell

So yk that would “save” Hannibal since presumably that would happen along the same sort of timeline and Hannibal would still be alive. Part of me can easily picture Will just fucking leaving him on the operating table with everything still hooked up to him and being like “if he can’t move in time to get away that’s too bad but also I just Want Rest”

On the other hand I mean he is. Wildly in love with the bastard. And the situation they’ve just been through has been absolutely horrible and he’s tired but he also can’t bear the sight of Hannibal so vulnerable so he definitely at least unhooks and unbinds him.

Idk that Will is anything like strong enough to carry Hannibal though and idk that Will would be committed enough to Saving Hannibal to try to get him out of there by some other means? I mean sure there are other means available to him but?? He’s so tired and Hannibal recently tried to saw his head open. He just leaves him and distantly hopes Hannibal will be gone by the time the cops get here.

Chiyoh of course still shows up and she sure as fuck doesn’t help Will: she finds Hannibal paralyzed in the makeshift operating room and takes him away somewhere to heal. After that? Small ficlet under the cut or on ao3

Will expects that Hannibal will go back on the run, and leave him a new trail of bloody breadcrumbs to follow. He doesn’t intend to look for them.

He doesn’t expect the knock on his door a few days later—even if Hannibal did stay in the area, the idea of him being that direct would never have occurred to Will. But there he is, still battered and bruised. He looks almost worse than the last time Will saw him, like he hasn’t slept. Like he walked there from miles away.

There’s a moment where Will considers shutting the door in his face. It really would only be fair. But he finds himself stepping back, opening it further to let Hannibal in and then shutting it behind him. The dogs are back home, and they cluster around, sniffing at the newcomer before Will orders them back to their beds with a sharp sound and a gesture.

He stares at Hannibal. Hannibal’s eyes are roving over his face like he’s trying to memorize it again. Neither of them has said anything. Eventually Hannibal sways on his feet, and Will catches his shoulder, not caring if it was probably an act. Hannibal all but falls forward into him, clutching at Will like his life depends on it.

Will wouldn’t have been surprised to feel the sharp stab of a knife, but there isn’t one. Just Hannibal wrapped as tightly around him as he can get, face buried in Will’s neck. Will’s arms come up around him as more a reflex than a conscious decision, and he feels wetness on his neck as Hannibal’s body shudders with a sob

It’s been a hell of a week, in as literal a sense as that phrase has ever been meant, and Will has been one good hug away from a breakdown himself since he saw Hannibal in front of the Botticelli. Maybe since he woke up in the hospital and Abigail was dead and Hannibal was gone. He’s not surprised when his own breath shakes and tears well in his own eyes. He leans into Hannibal and holds him tighter until they’ve cried themselves out, and then a little longer than that, and then he pulls Hannibal over to sit on the edge of the bed with him, shoulders touching, bracing each other.

“They’re watching my house,” he says.

“There is one man watching the driveway in a van,” Hannibal says, voice a little deeper and rougher than Will is used to. “Jack didn’t believe I would come to see you directly. Your ‘guard’ will believe he fell asleep at his post when he wakes in a few hours, and will tell no one for fear of losing his job.”

“You didn’t kill him?”

“I had hope that you would not inform Jack that I had been here. Killing him would have been difficult to explain.”

Will lets out a breath through his nose. “Why are you here?”

Hannibal’s face goes tight, and his lip trembles. “I couldn’t leave you again, Will. I—”

“Don’t,” Will says. He takes a deep breath, and it shakes more than he’d like it to. “Not right now.”

“Will I have another chance?” Hannibal counters.

Will looks down at his hands, twisted together in his lap. He sees Hannibal’s in his peripheral vision, shifting aimlessly on his thighs. “I don’t know.”

Hannibal sighs, and it sounds shaky too. “I don’t want to leave you.”

“I don’t want you to go,” Will says, before he can stop himself. He bites his lip, hard. “I’m so tired of all of this. I’m so tired.” He shakes his head a little. “I’ve missed you so much I thought I might die of it, but I can’t keep doing this.”

Hannibal’s hand twitches toward him before settling on his own thigh, squeezing so hard his knuckles go white. “I thought I was going to die,” he says slowly. “And the only thing that made me afraid was the thought that you were going to die too, and there was nothing I could do about it. That I was helpless to save you is what caused me alarm.”

You tried to kill me yourself the day before, Will thinks. He doesn’t say it. They both know it’s true, and it doesn’t change the fact that Hannibal is being honest. Both truths hang between them, incompatible and not incompatible at all. Will reaches over and covers Hannibal’s hand with his own, carefully prying his fingers out of their grip on his thigh. Hannibal turns his hand over and grasps Will’s fingers just as tightly.

“You can’t stay here,” Will says finally. “If that young man is honest, he’ll call Jack and they’ll search for you. He doesn’t entirely trust me where you’re concerned.”

“Should he?”

Will’s lip quirks up just a little. “Probably not.”

“You’re right that I can’t stay. Which means the time has come for you to decide what it is that you want.” Hannibal’s gaze burns into the side of Will’s head.

“What can I have? What are my options?” Will finally looks back up at him. “I want to come with you. I wanted it then. But I can’t do that if it’s just going to be like this.”

It’s Hannibal’s turn to look down at their hands. “Can I ask you to clarify what aspect of ‘this’ it is that you cannot tolerate?”

“I can’t live in fear of you gutting me and sawing my head open,” Will says bitterly. “If we’re going to do this we can’t keep hurting each other like this.” His voice softens. “I am so tired, Hannibal. I can’t keep fighting you.”

“Alright,” Hannibal says, stroking his thumb across the back of Will’s hand. “That is not as difficult a request as you seem to imagine, Will. I want you alive and well and with me. I know that now with certainty.”

Will laughs a little, to keep himself from crying again. “Wish you’d figured it out before.”

He’s not sure what he expected, but it wasn’t Hannibal’s quiet, “Me too.”

There’s nothing to say to that. They sit in silence for another little while, Hannibal’s thumb rubbing gentle circles into Will’s skin, until Will sighs again and says, “Let’s go.”

#hannibal #hannigram #will graham #hannibal lecter #hannibal nbc #asks #anon asks #3x07 Digestivo #my writing #headcanons #meta #sorry ajhsfgkdsjh this got away from me #maybe someday I'll actually write the whole thing #it's a v interesting concept #oh my god that's over a thousand words fksjgedha I'm gonna post it on ao3

161 notes · View notes

youghvaudough · 5 years ago

Text

Rewatched Hannibal Recently...

... here are some random thoughts brain chips on the third season

watch out for a text wall it's a doozy down under

this rewatching I finally realized the first half of this season Hannibal was basically like “I’m touring Europe with Bedelia one last time before I check myself into jail so I can see my bf often”

Will must’ve been real good at arts and crafts. He made a whole ass butterfly?bee?dragonfly?firefly man display out of shattered wine bottles and garbage from a basement basically

Also how did he not cut his hands with the glass???? He had leather gloves sure but it’s not like those are cut resistant?????? Does he have cut-resistant leather gloves???????

In Hannibal Rising Chiyoh is Hanni’s aunt’s lady-in-waiting (?) and was described as being about his age; if we’re going by that, she’s the same age as him in the show, which, ughhhhhh, let’s just say really really plays into the idea of us Asians not raisining (not mad at all; Tao Okamoto is so beautiful im gay as HELL —)

Bedelia: you’re in love with Will Graham and also leave me alone plz can I stop finishing murders on your behalf now

Hannibal was remarkably off his killing game at the end of the second season (or just really on his planning game) like NO ONE except for poor Abigail is dead by the 3rd season

Thinking about the filming of some scenes is so funny like:

the crew carrying leather arm chairs and fancy glass side tables into the middle of some woods for a single shot

Bryan Fuller being like “ughhhh can I get a membrane-like sheet over this macro lens so I can film it bring sliced open like its will’s stomach skin”

“also I need three thousand gallons of fake blood for some cool reverse drip shots”

everyone: Will help us catch Hannibal you must hate him so much right???? Will: busy imagining alternate reality where he and Hannibal actually worked it out at the end of the 2nd season

Will: tries his damndest to ignore everyone telling him he and Hannibal are in love while being very much smitten

Mason: talks religious mumbo jumbo Alana after her bi awakening: *choke stare

the only saving grace for Jack Crawford is how much he’s the “I love my wife” trope

Frederic: ...why does no one wanna help me with Hannibal hunting when I go a-knocking but when Will does it everyone’s with him????????? What’d I do

No one: Bryan Fuller: I NEED SOME SNAIL FUCKING SHOTS HERE

Bedelia: i feel like I’m your diet Will Graham Hannibal: what? no *continues to talk about how special Will Graham is and how no one will be his equal basically

WOAH question on Chiyoh so did Hannibal ~literally~ taxidermy her in time with some cannibal magic & that’s why she looks about, I don’t know, in her twenties still ?????? /s

Bryan Fuller: NOW I NEED TO OPEN AN OLD PAYPHONE FOR AN INTERIOR SHOT

Chiyoh: he’s good looking but dumb about Hannibal so

I’ll kiss him

then push him off the train

(hopefully dude’ll be warned but also finally learn how to gay)

Bryan Fuller: ARE YOU MISSING SOME SLOW MOTION SHOTS OF HUGH DANCY FLIPPING OF THE TRAIN IN YOUR LIFE? ALWAYS

how did Mason and Pazzi achieve high resolution uninterrupted overseas video chat with the front camera of Apple laptops????? the power of wealth????? whenever I call my mom my phone turns into a potato pretty much

the jack v hannibal fight was the ultimate “I luh my dead wife” man v “I just need to stay alive and go meet my boyfriend” man fight

Bedelia: I know what your goodbye is; I know what you wanna do to Will and you’re in love with the dude. No thanks I’ll yeet myself outta here

“waving your uterus around like a weapon” how iconic

Dolce will forever go down in cinematic history there I said it. Nothing tops the mirroring scars, the downright sensual romantic dialogue in front of a fucking Botticelli, this 水乳交融 of two minds (can’t find a good enough translation other than maybe “melding”), one of the weirdest most kaleidoscope-forward lesbian sex scene of all times, a lot of overlapping orgasm faces, reflexive hugs and pats of comfort, weirdly timed lip-lickings, etc etc

At least Mason recognizes how good looking Will’s is lmao even with all the burnt penis talk on the table

“He’s looking very dry a little moisturizer please” Mason your gay is showing

“It’s dangerous getting exactly what you want” yeah we got this season of Hannibal and then no more of it I’d say you’re right on the money Dr. Lecter

Alana and Margot helping Hannibal and Will: LGBT solidarity at its finest

dumbest thing mason did was probably pissing off Margot

So basically Chiyoh is made of a stable metal element between iron and silver that’s why she doesn’t age?????? /s

maybe “I found you in my mind palace” can be our “always”

I remember the first time I watched Digestivo and I was so worried Hannibal’s gonna finish eating Will or take off or continue into the book silence of the lamb arc or something after Will basically went “I won’t go looking for you at all bye bitch where my dogs at” so imagine my fucking delight ecstasy when Hannibal threw himself at the FBI just so Will can always find him. I cried buckets and became a devout Bryan Fuller STAN that day

Chiyoh: fuck this shit im out; don’t wanna protect this idiot boy with luv no mo

Molly: weirdly familiar sharp features, sand-blond hair, husky sultry deeper voice hmmmmmmmmm guess WHAT

...but she actually likes doggos so

Bryan Fuller: HUGH DANCY. COVERED IN BLOOD. NAKED. UNDER THE MOONLIGHT. NOW

Will gives Bedelia SO MUCH SHIT about using Hannibal as a means to fame that he almost forgets how possessive protective of Hanni this makes him look

Bedelia: calm yo ass do you know how many “Will is special you’ll never be him” talks I’ve been in with Hannibal as the main lecturer?????

Bedelia: did you go visit him Will: ...yeah Bedelia: whelp fuck my leg is about good as steak any day now

An odd detail I remember about this Will/Bedelia interaction was Bryan Fuller saying in some interview (probably) that this is basically wife confronting mistress; you know who’s which

when Reba was touching the tiger that vet guy must’ve stayed in the room right??? for safety and stuff??? guy must’ve had the weirdest time just seeing Francis freak the fuck out watching Reba

also Reba deserves all the nice things in the world; Francis though an overall shitty person can recognize beauty

...wait i take it back dude said Will was ugly (ok he said “not very handsome” but) like bitch where

for a series with pretty good sfx that teeth scene in 310 was fake as f---

will and bedelia taking shots at each other verbally cracks me tf up like is this the psychology people’s version of “you suck” “uno reverse”

i have to keep reminding myself that this is a crime show that actually aired on national tv bc these dialogues mama??? downright telenovela. Bryan Fuller has a point when he described them as wife and mistress

Bedelia: I would’ve preferred to be bluebeard’s last wife Will: challenge accepted

i cannot stress this enough REBA DESERVES BETTER she seems like the nicest, most well-meaning person ever and deserves to be cherished like so

it's so strange, getting everything that you want; take Will’s slow-burn-esque realization of Hannibal’s twisted affections for example

Bryan Fuller: NOW GIVE ME A CLOSE UP OF ICE SUCKING

So basically Hannibal’s attitude is “if I can’t be a constant fixture in his life I’ll be on his mind”

Hannibal is always a sucker for some good will ehhhh

Hannibal, in a police vehicle: get in Will we’re going cliff-diving dragon hunting; no but the actual line is just as cheesy geez hanni u smooth man-eater

The Bloom-Vergers look straight out of some gothic family catalog (if those exist)

like i will spare y’all the contrived complements of the Wrath of the Lamb bc like fucking hells mate there's no straight explanation for this finale

that’s it thanks for reading mates hannigram forever also someday some wealthy person will revive this I'm sure and we’ll rejoice then

#hannibal #nbc hannibal #hannigram #will graham #chiyoh #brain chips #im sorry but also not #hannibal s3 #i really appreciate Bryan Fuller if you cant tell #thank you for your service mr fuller #me rambling #bedelia du maurier #jack crawford #reba mcclane #bryan fuller

45 notes · View notes

casassin · 6 years ago

Text

I was tagged by the wonderful @woollenpharaohs to list my 10 favorite ships. I still can't belive people actually know I exist on this site. Seriously. Thanks so much for tagging me!

Now this is gonna be quite hard because I just have way too many ships to function, but I'm gonna try anyway. The order won't actually mean anything really since I'm the kind of person to jump from ship to ship.

(this is actually my second try doing this since my computer crashed in the middle of doing this. Thanks a bunch computer)

1.Dean Winchester/Castiel-Supernatural

Do you wanna have your heart broken and ripped to shreds? Then buckle up because I have the right ship for you!

These two have ruined me. Just like the show this ship is of great emotional value to me and I love it dearly. At this point the show is basically the most painful slow burn fic in the disguise of a TV show and I honestly can't complain. Each hug is fuel for my soul and gets me through another day.

2. Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham-Hannibal

Tbh this ship actually shares the first place with Destiel because I discovered them both at the same time where I didn't feel great at all and they both helped me through really tough times.

When it comes to Hannigram I'll always remember that one post that said that Hannibal lives in his own wonderland amongst pigs, who'll never be able to understand him and his wonderland, until he stumbles upon Will who sees and understands.

And in the end we are all just searching for someone who understands us, aren't we?

Beautifully dark relationship that tugs on your heartstrings more than it should.

3. Alana Bloom/Margot Verger-Hannibal

What would the murder husbands be without their counterpart murder wives?

Two beautiful women that kill their abuser via drowning and leave him to be eaten by his giant pet moray eel. Who then get married and have a beautiful son together. Bryan Fuller I truly thank you for this gift, for those beautiful ladies brighten my shadowy days.

4. Sam Winchester/Eileen Leahy-Supernatural

Even though I've always been a huge sucker for Sam/Gabriel, these two took me over by storm. They've had such great chemistry and I instantly fell in love with the idea of them being together since she's been first introduced. Such a shame the writers don't like their own characters to have an ounce of happiness. Hello denial thanks for showing me all those fix it fics.

5.Trevor Philips/Michael De Santa-GTA V

(not really a lot of gifs to use for that one)

Oh boy... Complete dumpster fire of a ship and guilty pleasure. I've actually shipshamed myself so long for this. But after playing the game multiple times, you just can't help but realize, that this ship sails itself.

Sometimes I wonder how I went from shipping girly anime looking guys to ship whatever these men are.

But this ship has some real emotional baggage and when you look behind the kinda disgusting surface, you see a relationship more flawed and real than most fanfiction offers. And oh man has this ship some really great fics!

6.Geralt of Rivia/Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy- The Witcher 3

I present to you: my current obsession

Even though my only knowledge of their relationship comes from the Blood and Wine DLC (because I've bought the books just now so I haven't read them) I still fell hard for this. Very hard.

A higher vampire killing his own blood brother, a bond much stronger than a human could ever imagine, to save his dudebro and thus becoming hated and hunted amongst his own kind for all eternity. This ship might be the definition of : there is no hetero explanation for this. You can't fool me CD Projekt Red. These two were clearly in love.

7. Mac/Dennis-iasip

What do I love more.

The meme that evolved from this scene or the ship?

Another one of those rough gems and my former obsession . With people so deeply flawed that it's more realistic than the most stuff you see on television these days. There is something about their dynamic that is so interesting to witness. Another one of those ships with some seriously great fanfics just like the one from the lovely person that tagged me.

8.Joseph Oda/Sebastian Castellanos-The Evil Within

Just by looking at this one can imagine that this is anything but a happy ship. Just take all the angst you can imagine and put it in a ship. There we go. Now you've got Joseb.

Another one of those games where you can't help but notice the chemistry and ask yourself if there was something more. I always revisit this one when I feel the urge to get some angst into my system.

9.Johnny Rayflo/Charles J. Chrishunds-Vassalord

My whole life was dedicated to this manga during my teenage years. Just looking at this gif still makes my heart swell in my chest. It's propably the reason why I have such a soft spot for vampires and I still have a special place for these two in my heart. Looks like I've got to reread this soon.

10. Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier-X-Men

I think we all have a special love for that one ship that introduced us to shipping and just fandoms in general. This one is mine.

I still have folders of crappy fanart of them, when I first tried drawing. And one of my first fics was also dedicated to them. I don't know if they either destroyed me or showed me the way into my safe space. And even if my obsession has slowly faded, I still consider this one of my most favorite ships.

That was a ride. My god

Even though I have a lot more I think I'm quite satisfied with how this turned out.

Like always I'm gonna tag (and bother) two of my favorite ladies @kira-hayashi and @natari-55

#long post #destiel #hannigram #joseb #samleen #macdennis #cherik #regis x geralt #johnny rayflo x charles j. chrishunds #marlana #trikey #personal

52 notes · View notes

theabominableblogger · 7 years ago

Text

My Reaction to “Gotham” S4E21

Screw that ending. In its entirety.

AN: I managed to record my reactions to this episode and hopefully I can transcribe what I said into this post (even though about 20% of this post is horrified screaming)

“Dig me up!” *starts singing “Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go” by Wham!*

DIG ME UP/ BEFORE YOU GO-GO/DON’T LEAVE ME LAYING THERE LIKE A HOBO

Pretty much the latter half of Gotham 4B is dedicated to dragging the ever loving crap out of Jerome

*cups hands around mouth* JIM AIN’T DEAD!

Lucius!

“Last time we [the other officers] followed you [Harvey], the Pyg slaughtered us.” I haven’t reached Professor Pyg yet in my reactions but C’MON!

Thank you, Harper!

“...he’s outside and he’s not alone.” Oooooohhhhh...

THAT OUTFIT THOUGH!

“JEREMIAH! JEREMIAH!” Dude even has a back-up choir!

I also really like the military-style outfit that the other followers have on

This natural lighting on Bullock and the other officers looks pretty nice, I gotta say

Can we talk about this wide shot of Bullock and the other officers vs. Jeremiah and his followers? ‘Cause that is a thing of beauty.

“Don’t compare me to that short-sighted psychopath.” #DraggingJeromeValeska2k18

For some reason, Jeremiah sounds like a mix between Hannibal Lector [Anthony Hopkins] and Andrew Scott’s Jim Moriarty (except if he were American)

*Jeremiah pulls out another dead man’s switch* Oh crap...

*The clock tower goes down* OHHHHHH!

Here’s my question: where did Jeremiah get his outfits?

“Looks aren’t everything,” my ass...

What the crap did they [Penguin and Butch] do to Jongleur?

“If it isn't little Penguin. Oh, and Butch's corpse.“ Pfftt....

“The man responsible for the recent fireworks is Jeremiah Valeska. Twin brother of our old associate.“ HOW DO YOU [Oswald] KNOW?!?

“[Tabitha] Don’t look at me [Barbara] like that.” Pfftt...

Bruce!

“I'm [Harvey] so sick of that freaking family [the Valeskas]...“ HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!

“[Bruce] Be with Alfred. Be safe. It's what Jim would want.“ Yes, please!

“Alfred, where have you been?” “No, not Alfred.” Shit.

When did Jeremiah take the time to dye his hair in between this episode and the last one?

Ecco probably did it. We know she did.

“But I meant what I [Jeremiah] said. You're my best friend, and today I'm gonna prove it to you [Bruce].“ Screw this noise!

Wait, you can turn off the dead man’s switch?

“Tell the police and I'll know. Just like I [Jeremiah] know that's where you [Bruce] are right now.“ Wait, how does he know? Is there a spy inside the precinct?

HERCULES MULLIGAN

*cups hands around mouth* I TOLD Y’ALL HE [Jim] AIN’T DEAD!

Lee!

*Jim rips out the IV in his arm* Why do people keep doing that in Hollywood stuff? Seriously.

That is the most graceful collapse back onto the bed that I’ve ever seen, Jim.

“I'm [Selina] gonna be here whenever you [Bruce] need me.” Aaaawww....

“He [Jeremiah] wants something out of me [Bruce].” “Like what, to be your best friend?“ Actually, yes... for some reason...

I don’t like thisss... not one bittt....

*Bruce is shown footage of Alfred getting beat up* AAAAAAHHHHH!!!

“If this is what you [Lee] want, I will do it. For you.” Oh my gosh, Ed is so unbelievably stupid!

“Do it for us.” They better not, they better not-

*Lee and Ed kiss* Eeuughh!

Whoa...

Is that blood... on the mirror above the captain’s office?

Please tell me it’s silly string.

AN: It’s spray paint.

“The bombs are connected by a nervous system. The core relay is the brain. We find that, we destroy that-” “We can stop the bombs from going off.” Where’s the core relay?

That transition overhead shot of Gotham is so obviously New York City.

OOOHHHH THAT’S A NICE SHOT....

“I envy you.” You do not. Shut the hell up.

“Call our friend. Tell him to kill the butler. He's no longer necessary.“ You better not!

“And is that my dear Jongleur with my core relay in his hand and a grenade taped to his mouth?” Hooooooo....

Oh my gosh, that hat take-off though!

This is gonna go south real fast.

Look at Jeremiah sitting in the chair all proper and dandy!

“I see. I play the villain, you get away scot-free and rich. I get you the money, you give me back my core relay.“ Oh my god, Oswald, you dead.

*Jeremiah rolls his eyes whenever Barbara speaks* HAHAHAHA!

“I'm nothing if not sane. And reasonable. Two things my brother never valued. Which is why I'll be successful where he failed. Well, that and being vastly more intelligent.“ *hisses in panic*

#DraggingJeromeValeska2k18

“We're not just gonna hand this thing over and let him destroy Gotham, are we?” “Of course not. Once we get the money, we kill Jeremiah and his people, give the core relay to the police, split the $50 million, and are hailed as the heroes of Gotham!” WHY WOULD YOU SAY THIS OUT LOUD?!? WHY?!?

EVERYONE IN THIS ROOM IS DEAD

*Jeremiah pulls out a bazooka* OOHHHHH

“Are you [Jeremiah] OUT OF YOUR MIND?!?” Yes.

“What's insane about having a backup plan? Something Jongleur never knew about.“ True!

Oh my gosh, Jeremiah running up the stairs! Speedy Gonzalez!

“I imagine you're wondering, why is Jeremiah doing this?“ I bet you’re wondering I brought you here today...

“My brother once said, "All it takes is one bad day to reduce the sanest man alive to lunacy.“ Oh my God...

*screams when Alfred is shown being tortured*

Oh my God...

Craaaaap!

*gasps when Alfred gets doused in laughing gas*

*weakly* Noo....

“I'm only helping you because I'm with Lee now.” “Fine. Whatever.” Hahaha!

“Ed, Jeremiah Valeska is threatening to destroy half the city. You really think I care if you've deluded yourself into thinking you and Lee are a couple?“ YES! THANK YOU! THANK YOU JIM! YESSSS!!

“She's with me in every way.” Punch him. Now.

“And you, Jim, are ten times the killer that I ever was.” Ed, shut the heck up.

*slaps desk with every other word* Can we please get back to the discussion at hand please thank you!

Is that Gotham?

“Jeremiah lived his entire life in a maze. Now he's trying to remake the city into the place he feels most safe.“ Man...

“It’s [the solution to the maze] actually rather elegant.” Shoot, Jeremiah’s more like the Riddler than the actual Riddler in this show!

Punch him [Ed]. Now!

*Jim knocks out Ed with one punch* YESSSSSS! THANK YOU!

*claps with each word* Jim Gordon, MVP.

“Get the core relay, he [Oswald] says! Have the upper hand, he says!“ Heehee!

“That means we can disrupt them by disarming the first bomb in the sequence. It's like removing one light from a string of Christmas lights.“ So where’s the first one?

*Jim and Harvey reunite with a hug* YAY!

You’d think Jeremiah would keep his plans more well hidden...

*Scarecrow sneaks up behind Selina* OOOOOOHHHHHHH

IS THAT A SCYTHE?!?!?

Scarecrow’s literally just standing there, literally not moving, just holding his scythe. It’s for the aesthetic.

*Scarecrow swings his scythe at Selina* WHOA!

Bruce! Get out of there!

AAAAAAHHHHHH I’M NOT LIKING THIS EPISODE AT ALL!

Fear toxin! It’s fear toxin! Bruce, you’re hallucinating this!

*screams when Fake Alfred gives himself a Glasgow smile*

I’m not likin’ this episode!

*gasps when Fake Alfred goes after Bruce*

I’m actually shaking...

No, no, Bruce, this is fake!

*Selina finds a hostage in a closet* That has to be the real Alfred!

Who’s Bruce fighting then?

*screams when Fake Alfred gets shot and falls over the balcony*

“Alfred...” Hug. Please. Hug.

[The generator bomb] Looks like a building...

Why and how did Jeremiah dye his hair? I like it though.

Vertigo shot....

“This is a message to the followers of Jeremiah Valeska. Jeremiah claims to have killed me [Jim]. Well, bad news, I'm alive.“ Haha!

“So, just know you're worshipping a fraud. A pale imitation of Jerome.“ Whoooo...

Go Jim!

You [Harvey] better not be doing “Eeny Meeny Miny Moe” on a bomb...

Aaaand he did.

*jumps when Jeremiah silences the cultists*

[Jeremiah smiles] *softly* Oh my God that’s awesome... oh my God...

*Jeremiah purges the cultists* OOOHHHHHH

Here’s my question: where’s Ecco?

“Perhaps the outcome was not what we had hoped, - but it was worth the risk.“ Oswald, shut up. Let everybody enjoy their booze.

*Butch decides not to join Oswald* Thank you!

Is that an old church?

“Think think think think think think...” Haha!

“Who are you? What do you want?” “I [Ra’s]had a vision. Of Gotham in flames.” *gasps*

OOHHHH MY GODDD.... OH my God, I was right!

I freaking called it [Jeremiah and Ra’s meeting]! I freaking called it! Jeremiah and Ra’s are gonna cause No Man’s Land...

“Because, my boy-” Mah boy... not a good sign! Not a good thing!

“-this is about Bruce Wayne.” Of course it is! It’s always about Bruce!

Drink all the booze!

It’d be cool if we see Bludhaven next season.

Oh I like that lighting... it’s so good! Jim in yellow and Lee in blue...

“But whatever happens after I walk out that door, I care about you. And I always will.“ Aawww...

Oh man, this is sad. Man...

Freaking Ed... get the heck out!

Get frozen in ice again!

*The precinct applauds Harvey* Yaaayy! Yay, recognition for Harvey! This is stuff I like this show! Yaaay!

Happy ending? In a “Gotham” episode? It’s probably less likely than I think!

[Bruce and Alfred] Hug! Please! Hug!

*Alfred leaves* Dang it.

“Thank you again. I don't know what would have happened if you weren't there.” Aaawww...

Oh oh oh are they are they-

*Bruce and Selina kiss* OOOHHHHHH!!! Yes!

“Jeremiah said all it takes is one bad day to drive a person insane. I wonder if my parents dying made me [Bruce] a little insane.“ Mmmm....

*gasps when Jeremiah strolls in*

*Jeremiah shoots Selina* OOOHHHHHHHH!! NO! NOOOO!!!

*Alfred tackles Jeremiah to the ground and beats the crap out of him* YES YES YES YES THANK YOU!

NOOOO!! No, no, she’s alive!

*Credits start playing* Screw this entire show. I’m done.

#Gotham #gotham spoilers #FOX #one bad day #the blogger reacts #looked at the stars and considered a reaction #jim gordon #harvey bullock #lucius fox #bruce wayne #selina kyle #jeremiah valeska #alfred pennyworth #scarecrow #lee tompkins #edward nygma #jerome valeska #ra's al ghul

2 notes · View notes

believerindaydreams · 4 years ago

Text

I think I should perhaps stop having wild hopes that I got to the end, but this does leave off where Broken Steel starts and I haven't played that

Arcade

He doesn't much like the Purity rotunda. Two solid doors that wouldn't be difficult to block off, it wouldn't completely surprise him if the Enclave was planning to wipe out every leader in the Wasteland with a few well placed mines. It's very crowded in here.

He mentions this to Sarah Lyons, surely the person with the most reason to mistrust this situation, only to find her surprisingly calm about the possibility. "If I die, Liberty Prime moves in on Raven Rock and reduces it to rubble. That's a price worth paying."

"What even is a Liberty Prime?"

She almost smiles. "Two hundred feet of robotic destruction."

He's afraid to ask whether she means that literally; but Autumn grimaces.

"Gannon. I confess I'm surprised to see you here."

"All that's necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing. I- hope to be doing something."

"As do I," Autumn drawls.

"Then go stick your head in a swamp," Lyons advises. "A good start to that beautification Eden is always claiming to care about."

"You were so much less bitter to the Lone Wanderer," Autumn retorts. "Help us out and maybe you'll rate initiate one day?"

"And I was right to be dubious. We only take the best."

The backchat is cut short by Hannibal Hamlin, armed with the microphone from a ham radio.

"If I may have your attention?"

Conversation slows, stops, leaving only a tense silence.

"I'll keep this brief- there's little I can say that would speak to all of you equally, bounty hunter and Follower, Brotherhood or Enclave. I hope to make common cause with many of you; I'm wise enough to know some of us will still part as enemies, not friends. But there's something all of us share, and that's the simple human need for water. I'm told that James Autumn has a plan to help solve that pressing problem for all of us- and so, let us hear from him."

There's a ripple of interest as the microphone passes from abolitionist to scientist; James Autumn's height is accentuated by the raised steps he stands on. It makes it easy to see the smooth grey briefcase he's grasping in his other hand.

"I'm honoured, Hamlin. And so to business- this, ladies and gentlemen, is a G.E.C.K. A Garden of Eden Creation Kit, capable of terraforming land on an astonishing scale."

Anyone in this room, Arcade knows, would kill for such a thing; and perhaps James Autumn is wiser than he thought, in gathering so many people that no one can make a play for it without being caught in a massacre.

"But I, and my team at Rivet City, have gone beyond this simple pre-war functionality. The G.E.C.K was meant as a one-time device, but what we sought- what we succeeded in doing- was to craft a device that would last for generations. Project Purity will cleanse the Tidal Pool of radiation, and give the Capitol pure, clean water."

There's a rising hum of awe, amazement. No or never.

"Is that it?"

"Is that- what? I've solved a problem that the greatest pre-war scientists couldn't solve, for the benefit of everyone."

"And if this was twenty years ago, maybe that would have meant something," Arcade retorts. The others have his back, his voice carries easily in the hush. "But what use is that now with the Mojave imports? The Followers have already adapted prickly pear to DC conditions, every caravan that visits Nacochtank leaves with clean cactus water. In a generation every house in the wastes will have their own garden- and then what price the Rivet City pool, eh?"

The scientist's hands are white at the knuckles. "I can think of no better use for for the kit than purifying the waters."

"Well, I can. You know what would benefit everyone here? Use it at the Pitt."

Silence gives way to a babble, until the voice of Mister Burke rises above it. "An elegant solution! Turn a toxic slum into the richest prize in the wastes, and protect your Follower water trade!"

Arcade flushes, but keeps his temper. Burke isn't so wrong, at that.

Other voices are rising in a confused babble.

"-imagine the looting, they say there's an ammo press-"

"Pay back Ashur, once and for all-"

No: it won't be hard to raise a war against the Pitt at all. Economics and crusading combined will be a terrifying combination.

Moira Brown's voice is shrill in the commotion. "What does the Lone Wanderer say?"

The call is taken up by a number of people, becomes almost a chant, until Augustus Autumn walks up the steps to take the microphone from his father's hands.

"My friends...I have helped many of you as the Lone Wanderer. I hope to help many more as Colonel Autumn, even-" he bows towards Sarah Lyons, "those with the least love for the Enclave. And in my travels, I've tried to listen to you, tried to discover what kind of America you all would want to live in. So I'll ask you now, in the best republican tradition of America; do you want Project Purity, or shall we cleanse the Pitt?"

"Pitt! Pitt! Pitt! Pitt!"

Arcade catches a glimpse of Hannibal, looking content for perhaps the first time in years; and smiles to himself.

"Then the Pitt it shall be," Colonel Autumn says. "And I know that President Eden-"

His words are cut short by James, yanking the microphone from his hands. "This is nonsense. You- Follower, call yourself a scientist? Come here and see why it won't be possible to reconfigure the G.E.C.K. like that."

His blood is running hot, as he squeezes through the crowd, walks up to James. The ripper feels heavy in its holster.

"Come inside the chamber, and if you can change the settings, you can have your damned kit. I promise you that."

The others have been separated from him, Boone cursing and elbowing his way through towards him; and Arcade lets James pull him inside the Purity airlock quickly, before anyone he loves can be caught in the trap.

Because he knows that's what it is, even before they leave the airlock for the weird silence of the Purity catwalk. Knows it as James lays down the G.E.C.K. and pulls a lever to blast them both with radiation.

Wasteland habit makes him automatically reach for the Rad-Away, the Rad-X; the other man watches and laughs.

"A little test of convictions," the elder Autumn says. "A duel. Whichever one of us lasts longest will decide the fate of that kit...but I know who'll win. That's called faith. For I am the alpha, and-"

"And you can stick it up your ass, Father."

Arcade doesn't turn at the familiar voice; doubts he can, with the world starting to spin and buckle around him. The radiation venting is already reaching murderously high levels, he's going to die here.

"Augustus. I'm disappointed." Quite as calmly as if he wasn't dying; but James makes a move for the G.E.C.K-

Autumn shoots him with his weathered pistol, collapses to the floor in a weird symmetry with his father.

He wouldn't be a doctor if he didn't try to help; he kneels down. "I'll get you out..."

"And roast the entire leadership of the wastes? You'll wait until it dies down...it will, this was...contingency plan." Autumn reached out with a syringe of Rad-X, jabs him with it. "Code's from Revelation."

"Why would you do this?" What kind of wastelander only carries one syringe of Rad-X, Autumn is dying in his arms and he's helpless.

"I believe...in the Enclave," Autumn rasps, and dies.

His own passing out comes as a merciful relief.

*****

Chronologically, he finds out later that it's about six hours between that moment and his waking up again, with a stiffening corpse across his thighs.

In the Mojave, maybe he'd leave Autumn be; but he pockets the pistol, takes the heavy overcoat with the unconscionable weapon inside it. James he strips clean of everything except clothing.

And the G.E.C.K., sitting innocuously on a table.

He cycles the airlock, unlocks it- given Autumn's hint, finding the circled passage in James' metal-covered scripture wasn't hard- and walks out to Boone's waiting arms. Manny and Carla and Daisy are asleep on the steps below.

"Don't do that to me again, you bastard," Boone whispers. "Thought you were gonna die."

"I would have agreed." A few other people have stuck it out; Sarah Lyons gruffly offers her rad-counter, raises an eyebrow when it proclaims him to be clean. Hannibal gives him a nod of approval.

"You're a brave man, Arcade Gannon."

"I wish I was in some shape to appreciate the compliment, but- thank you." He dumps the kit into Hannibal's hands. "I think you'd best hang on to this for now. In case the Enclave comes looking for revenge."

"You might be surprised," Hannibal says, his dark eyes twinkling with amusement.

Arcade doesn't know what that could mean and hardly cares, waking up the others to quit their tired vigil. Carla mumbles inarticulate relief, absently kisses him; Manny wraps him in a bear hug without even trying to talk.

They head out to the gift shop, where a motley collection of the Wasteland's finest are sleeping and guarding, campfires making odd shadows against the green walls.

"The room was wired for sound," Boone says. "Gonna be even more a hero than you were already."

"Almost makes me wish for a nuclear summer."

"Huh?"

Arcade frowns. "A joke. Don't worry about it."

"Okay. You want to sleep in here, or outside?"

"Outside," Carla says, in unison with him.

There's a starry night for once, the wasteland's smog clear for once in a way; and they lay out bedrolls without even bothering to pitch a tent. A Vertibird lands in the distance, its lights a strange beauty against the sky; and Arcade wonders briefly about

They don't go back to sleep after all; they speculate on the war to come, who'll turn traitor, whether Ashur might have weapons to surprise them all.

"I wouldn't put it past him," Carla says, watching her daughter suckle. "Brotherhood, you can't be too sure."

"I'll try not to take that personally."

"Veronica," Manny says heartily. "You've brought a friend, I see."

"Two friends," Christine says briskly. "Everyone, this is Dr Whitley from the Adams Air Force Base, which means he's Enclave."

"Afraid so," Whitley says, sounding a trifle embarrassed. "Um- one of you tampered with my Eyebot. ED-E."

"That was Arcade," Manny says. "We would have been killed quite a few times without him- I'm sorry he didn't make it. Somebody blasted him to bits at Paradise Falls, we were told."

"Then maybe I can put him back together after all! If he wasn't scrapped, that is."

"Stranger things have happened there," Manny says solemnly; and Arcade snorts.

Veronica prods Whitley. "I'm sure that your favourite robot is as important as, oh, the fate of the entire wasteland?"

"Oh, right. Um- I don't know how much you knew about Colonel Autumn, but he did some bad things. And I mean some extremely bad things," Whitley says earnestly.

"...that isn't news," Carla says, after a speechless moment.

"No? Well, I guess it wouldn't be- so, um, the thing is that I didn't really trust Raven Rock leadership any longer, so I programmed ED-E to go find the leadership of Navarro. I didn't know that Navarro had been sacked, you see- nobody ever tells us scientists anything-"

Arcade makes a sympathetic noise; Veronica looks wild with impatience. "Get to the point, Whitley!"

"What? Oh, right...well, President Eden," Whitley says breathlessly, "is a computer. James Autumn programmed him to take over when Richardson died, and he assigned his son to be leader of the Enclave forces."

"Go on," Arcade says, wondering at the scientist's growing embarrassment.

"Why- that is to say- Colonel Autumn never thought of putting in orders for the succession when he died, and I might have, um, decided that whoever was at Navarro would have to be better and wrote a program to transfer power to the highest ranking officer there when Autumn died. Only you came along and told ED-E that there isn't any chain of command at Navarro any more, so- um, happy promotion, Colonel Gannon?"

"Oh, no."

"I'm very sorry," Whitley says apologetically.

"Absolutely not! I'm not qualified, I don't want it, I- sweet rads I'm a stimpak researcher! I grow cacti! Nobody would even want me running the Enclave war machine!"

"President Eden does. He's very excited about it, actually."

"If Autumn wasn't dead I would kill him."

"You can always go punch the corpse," Veronica advises cheerfully. "That has a way of clearing the mind."

"Sure solves a lot of problems," Manny says meditatively. "And I mean a lot of problems. Nobody else ever being held against their will at Raven Rock again."

Arcade groans. "I wouldn't trust myself with this. I wouldn't trust anyone with it."

"I figure it's just as well," Boone says, lighting a cigarette. "Mister Burke caught me for a chat while you were out, says Autumn was trying to convince me to move in with him at Megaton. Now that would have been messy. Glad we don't have that to deal with."

"Boone," Manny says after a moment. "You're great. We all know that. But how the hell is it that one chunky sniper has got damn near everybody in two wastelands trying to get into his pants, for chrissake?"

Boone puffs on his smoke. "Don't ask me."

"I think it's the voice," Carla says critically, swiping the cigarette from her husband's fingers to take a long drag herself. "You'd do anything for that deep voice."

"Are you really going to smoke and nurse simultaneously?" Arcade asks tiredly.

"It's been a long day. Make a law about it, Colonel."

"Oh, for..."

#ttw draft

0 notes

darling-i-read-it · 5 years ago

Text

Home

Will Graham x reader

Word Count: 900

Warnings: talks of murder

Author’s Note: Alana, boo, being an asshole as Will finally gets to see his dogs again was not it and so I do not stan and he deserves this and this only.

(also ive given Will the nickname bubba so thats just that)

Summary: Will comes home from prison and the reader is very excited

Genre: fluff

Song: the boy who never by landon pigg

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

(not my gif)

You got the call from Jack. He had meant to call you earlier but he was so busy with his worries about Hannibal that he had gotten caught up in his work. He explained to you, very briefly that he knew Will hadn’t killed anybody.

You responded in a very brief, no shit.

Your trust of Will hadn’t faltered for a second. Your trust of everyone else did but not Will.

You doubted Hannibal the most, knowing that what Will was telling everyone had to have some merit of truth.

“He’ll be back soon. I’m driving him home now.”

“Now?” you called, a smile evident on your face. “You couldn’t have given me time to clean or come pick him up myself?” Jack chuckled. He looked over at Will who was in the car with him. Will was clearly happy to hear that you were happy to have him back. He didn’t want to say anything that might ruin the first meeting since he got out of jail.

“We’ll be there in ten minutes, is that long enough?” You scoffed.

“Will’s gonna kill me. Drive slow, stop extra hard at stop signs, I’ll see you soon.”

You hung up the phone and Will looked down at his lap, a small smile evident on his face. Jack glanced over. He was glad to see someone had stayed for Will, considering his guilt at not believing him in the first place.

“She’s the only one who has been at my office every day to tell me you didn’t kill anyone,” Jack said. Will nodded.

“And to think I almost let Alana watch my dogs.” Jack shook his head.

“She really loves you.” Will glanced over at Jack and shrugged, trying to hide the light blush evident on his face.

“So I’ve heard.”

The dogs heard the car pull up before you did. You were knee deep in dishes but you had just managed to put away the last one by the time the dogs ran out of the door. You smiled and slipped off the yellow gloves you were using to wash the dishes. You tried not to sprint like the dogs were but you couldn’t hold back a small jog to the door.

The sight of Will, in front of his house, wearing his clothes made your heart swell up. You almost started crying but you held it back. Will was on the ground, pounced by the dogs. You waved at Jack and he waved back through the driver window before steadily backing out of the driveway.

Will looked up from the dogs and at you who stood at the edge of the porch.

“It’s very nice to see you,” you said truthfully. He smiled and stood up, walking over to you. You easily put your arms around him, breathing in his scent like it was the first time. You pressed your head on his chest and he buried his head in your hair.

“It’s so nice to touch you,” he said, laughing in amazement. You pulled away and wiped the tears from your eyes that were threatening to spill.

“Right back at you.”

You pulled away and looked at him but didn’t move any further away. It felt like if you let him go you may lose him forever. You gripped his upper arms and he wiped your eyes, laughing gently.

“I’m glad that someone missed me.”

You hit his arm but just hugged him again.

“Jack missed you. Beverly would have missed you. If you can’t tell how much the dogs missed you then you’re clearly blind bubba,” you muttered against his chest. He looked over at the dogs and then at you.

“I imagine Alana is out of your vision then?” He liked to tease you about how much you were sure Alana liked Will. You scoffed.

“Jack said she slept with Hannibal,” you said. Will raised an eyebrow.

“I’m gonna hug you again before he steals you away too,” he teased. He put an arm around your waist, the dogs brushing against your legs in excitement. You were so happy to have him beside you again he had no idea.

“Jack said you didn’t doubt me for a second,” he said quietly. You nodded proudly and looked up at him.

“I can confirm that.”

“Not even after I sent someone to kill Hannibal?” You scoffed.

“I was just offended you didn’t ask me to do it because I would have done a better job.” He nudged you. You smiled.

“I believe that.”

“Come on, I was just about to make dinner.” He nodded and the two of you started to walk inside. He was ready to collapse into bed and try and sleep with you next to him for once.

“Hopefully absent of people,” he said dryly. You laughed, opening the door for him and the dogs.

“Shut up Will.”

#will graham x reader #will graham imagines #hannibal imagines

158 notes · View notes