#the suicide is implied but very much there

[nicoleanell]

Still on my kick of meta-ing about IWTV season 2 a few months too late. LOUMAND FIGHT TIME. I gotta be sad about something real quick.

There's definitely a thing in the Armand-apologist side of fandom (the street where I live) where it's often brought up that nothing Armand says in that argument is quite as vile and monstrous as the "groomed me into a little bitch" line. My obligatory disclaimer IN FAIRNESS TO LOUIS: (a) it's certainly not a one-sided fight and they do both get some very ugly hits in, (b) Armand was the sober one (I don't actually think that's much of an excuse but worth pointing out he immediately forgot what happened and apologized even BEFORE any mind-meddling), and (c) holy shit the rest of the episode exists and nothing that preceded Louis' suicide attempt was a justification for the way Armand reacted after it. Cool? Cool.

But still - yeah. That line is gross and extremely Not funny to me. It crosses such a huge line so fast there's almost nothing either of them could say to de-escalate from that. (In fact I'd argue it crosses a line FOR THE AUDIENCE more than it even registers as that bad to Armand, which in itself is kinda sad. Like… his instinct in that moment is laughing and throwing trauma insults back in a stupid Southern accent. He was - I cannot stress this enough - more upset by being called boring.)

I think there's something interesting about the fact that in universe the way Armand responds by mocking Louis' brother's suicide is just as horrible - because Paul's death is meant to be something that was formatively traumatic and life-changing for Louis - but I'm not sure that it fully hits the audience as viscerally terrible on the same level as making fun of Armand being raped by his daddy-vampire and others as. a. child.

But anyway, with the understanding no one came out taking the high road there... the thing that actually kills me about that exchange is we KNOW in that moment, watching them hurl these horrible horrible words at each other: these are things they opened up to each other about in the past. These are things they told each other. They've been together for decades already. This isn't a "digging into your head and pulling stuff out" kind of thing, like some fuckin' Daniel or whatever. This isn't common knowledge of their backstories just because the audience knows it already. They're both acting like "this is a thing you whine about all the time" when they've whined about it to vanishingly few people in the world, actually!!

Armand brings up Paul and Grace because Louis has talked about them, and he listened. Louis has told him about watching Paul step off the roof, about Grace at the cemetary. And Armand told Louis everything about Marius, and Louis filed that away in his brain with some extra words that Armand didn't use. At one point or another, they both unpacked the heaviest shit that ever happened to them and said "have this, I think it's why I am the way I am", they shared these things with each other in moments of intimacy and vulnerability and said "don't hurt me with this, obviously, okay?" And now they're here, unloading it all back onto each other as mockery. Yeah, I've heard you say all that stuff about your damage, and it's fucking pathetic and hilarious actually. It's not just like "I'm trying to hurt you by bringing this up", it's also "you've always sounded ridiculous to me when you talked about this stuff, you know that, right? I pretended to feel bad for you and I truly could not care less."

Like one of the reasons I think that scene is so jaw-dropping is there's so much intimacy and familiarity with each other implied and also shattered by it. And man how DO you ever get back from that. I would start the memory-erasing from that moment forward for sure.

[rekino2114]

Hey could I get Lacey with a reader who kisses her (with her permission of course) all over her face while saying praises about them and how much they love her?

I want to see her happy and in a loving relationship so badly now ever since I saw your post

Kissing and comforting lacey

Pairing:lacey x gn reader

Tw(if you've seen lacey, you know):abuse depression,suicidal thoughts,just trauma in general (all of this is implied, and lacey has kind of healed from her childhood)

A/n:God, just writing all of the trigger warnings made me so fucking angry, lacey deserves only the best in this world, sorry it took so long to finally make a post about her and PLEASE keep requesting stuff for her I want to make her feel the love she needs and deserves

Lacey felt like she was trapped. All of the abuse she suffered was just the norm for her, and she knew that despite how desperately she tried, she could never get out. Despite how desperately she wanted to go get ice cream and go shopping and maybe find a partner, she could never, she was trapped here and she couldn't do anything about it.

That was until you came in her life.

You helped her get away from that hell. You gave her the strength to do what she wanted to do for her entire life, and you supported her the whole way through. She genuinely could never thank you enough for what you did for her.

But no matter how much you helped her heal the scars still remained.

She had woken up sweating and panting from another nightmare, she grabbed her cheek and started crying silently, she didn't want to wake you up. Even if you had always told her that she could come to you for whatever reason and especially to talk, she still felt hesitant to do so, she had already told you everything and she thought that she was bothering you by continuing to tell you about her trauma. Just like she was bothering everyone else by living

She continued sobbing until she felt a pair of arms wrap around her and a familiar warmth encompassing her, she didn't flinch as she immediately knew it was you

"Y-y/n!"

"Is everything OK lacey? Were you crying?"

"N-no it's fine"

You sighed and continued hugging her

"Lacey, you know you can tell me everything, I won't force you if you don't want to, but I know you're not ok"

Lacey laid down and hugged you back, facing you and closing her eyes

"........i-it was a nightmare"

".....about your childhood?"

"Y-yeah"

You saw her shiver and got worried

"D-do you mind if I hug you a bit tighter, you look scared'

She simply nodded as you tightened you grip, making sure it was not too tight and still comfortable

"Like I said before, it's fine if you don't wanna talk about it, I know how traumatic it was, but just know I won't let anything happen to you"

Lacey opened her eyes and stared into yours, her own grip tightening

"I love you, and you're perfect. You're beautiful, hardworking, kind, and gentle, I could keep going on forever. It's genuinely incredible how you didn't let your past influence who you are now. A lot of people would be so envious of you for that"

"I-i think a lot of that is because of you.....y-you helped me grow and move past all that-"

"Maybe, but I wouldn't have been able to do that if you weren't this strong, you have no idea how many people would have been powerless to do anything in your situation even with someone like me, you have such a strong will, I am so proud of you....for everything"

The blue haired girl felt a small smile creep up on her face, seeing that you smiled slightly too and touched her cheeks, before quickly pulling back

"O-oh I'm sorry"

"N-no it's fine I don't mind. Your touch....is nice. It makes me feel safe"

Your smile widened as you guided your hand back to her cheek

"Do you mind if I kiss you?"

"......no I don't mind at all, please do it"

You started kissing her face very gently, leaving very soft kisses all over her. She started smiling even brighter and blushed slightly

"You're wonderful lacey, you deserve only the best"

"T-thank you"

"You don't need to thank me, I'm just telling the truth"

"......still, it means a lot"

"And that's why I'm telling you that, cause I want you to know how much you mean to me"

She muttered another thank you and kissed your cheek this time before closing her eyes.

She still felt your lips on her skin and your sweet words in her ears, and they helped her so much. With you, she felt like all of her past, all of the abuse, her uncle, all the other horrible people, it all felt like a distant memory or a bad dream like the one she just had.

All of the crushing expectations people put on her, all of the terrible abuse she went through, all of the times she thought of just ending it all. They were all gone because of you, the ray of sunshine in that permanent thunderstorm that her life used to be.

Sure, she still had nightmares, but she was glad for exactly that, that they were just nightmare now thanks to you.

So she fell asleep rocked by your words and touches, glad that now she was going to have beautiful dreams of your life together.

[flock-of-cassowaries]

So I’m not endorsing Fight Club - it’s a problematic book with a deeply toxic cultural legacy - but as a queer AFAB millennial who grew up in the sunken place of really wanting to identify with images of traditional masculinity… that shit rocked my world circa 2006.

And it just occurred to me how easily you could map Fight Club’s core plot conceit* onto NBC Hannibal (especially season 1); and that got me thinking about the parallels and differences between these two works.

Spoilers for a 28-year-old movie below the cut.

*the core plot conceit of Fight Club is that the two principal characters - the charismatic and dangerous Tyler Durden, and the story’s unnamed narrator - are in fact one person. The narrator is not aware of this until the final act.

(Also - I’ve added headings, because I know this is very long and rambly, and I feel an appropriate amount of shame about that. )

[How this idea originally occurred to me]

So what originally got me thinking about this is that in NBC Hannibal, Will is always tired, while Hannibal, mysteriously, seems to have at least 40 hours available for crafts and hobbies in every day.

This maps very neatly onto the way time seems to work for Tyler Durden, vs. how it works for the insomnia-plagued narrator.

[Main thesis]

But there’s a lot more similarities than that - most notably, the overall arc of the narrator-Tyler / Will-Hannibal relationship:

1. Both Hannibal Lecter and Tyler Durden breeze into our main character’s lives, and very quickly install themselves at the very centre of it.

2. Both become an object of unacknowledged homoerotic yearning for the main character, before finally being revealed to be extremely dangerous villains who were manipulating the main character all along, and who were instrumental in blowing up the main characters’ lives.

3. Ultimately, in both works, the main character ultimately rejects their “friend” by attempting suicide in a way that will kill both of them (and, in doing so, stops the “friend” from committing further harm).

[Bonus Round]

Other parallels include:

- that Hannibal and Tyler are both exceptionally ostentatious in their mode of dress, in contrast to our comparatively mousey main characters.

- that they both serve to invite the main character to embrace violence (something the narrator in Fight Club does easily, but which Will Graham, to his credit, resists).

- Hannibal’s ritualized sadistic physical torture of Will (in Mizumono, and the again in Dolce / Digestivo) also mirrors the scene in Fight Club where Tyler burns the narrator’s hand.

- Hannibal and Tyler also both enter the main character’s lives at a time when they are struggling with insomnia based on guilt related to their jobs. (Jobs, btw, where both of them have bosses they cannot stand and do not respect.)

[Alana Bloom and Marla Singer]

I also think the Marla Singer / Alana Bloom parallel is interesting.

In both cases, these women are implied to be the only woman who might, possibly be a match for the main character - someone who could possibly understand them enough to form a possibly-healthy relationship.

Instead, however, Alana and Marla end up forming relationships with Hannibal and Tyler (respectively).

In both works, this makes the main character despair (even as it is implied that the woman would actually rather be with the main character than with Hannibal / Tyler).

[Bonus Round II - Electric Boogaloo]

Also, on a more superficial level, both Marla and Alana have stunningly pale skin and dark hair (much as both Tyler and Hannibal are sandy blondes who seem larger-than-life in comparison to our dark-haired, ruddy-complexioned protagonist).

I would also like to rapidly recognize:

- the aesthetic similarities in Randall Tier’s death and that of Jared Leto’s character in the film version of Fight Club

- the amusing parallel of both Tyler and Hannibal creatively repurposing dead human tissue, which they then gleefully give to rich people who do not know what they are consuming (Tyler, by making medical-waste human fat into bougie soap; Hannibal, by making murder victims into gourmet meals)

- the way that the “the line between us has begun to blur” theming in Season 3 of Hannibal echoes the “literally the same person” reveal in Fight Club

[Conclusion]

With all this in mind, I think it would be very possible (and potentially quite fun) to plot out a Fight Club AU of Hannibal, wherein there is no Hannibal Lecter. (Might explain why he has such a stupid fucking name. Yeah, I said it. It’s fucking dumb that his name rhymes with “cannibal”. Fight me, Thomas Harris.)

[Appendix - Contrasts]

That said, the differences are also quite notable:

1. Whereas Tyler Durden seduces the narrator in Fight Club with the promise of validation from a male social group, Hannibal Lecter’s pitch to Will is that he recognizes that Will is is unique and special, and appreciated him as such.

2. Tyler Durden is overtly political, positioning himself as outside the system, and explicitly anti-capitalist. Hannibal Lecter, on the other hand, is apolitical, and perfectly comfortable being a member of the ruling class. There is no anti-capitalist motive to his crimes against the rich.

3. In rejecting Tyler, the narrator in Fight Club (especially in the film version) symbolically reclaims his heterosexuality, and is implied to have formed a bond with Marla; whereas Will Graham (literally) embraces Hannibal even as he rejects him, and Alana has long since been clearly shown to have adopted a position of “To hell with these gay idiots”.

4. While imperfect, Will Graham is a lot more sympathetic than the narrator of Fight Club; both because of how vigorously he resists Hannibal (as alluded to above), and in terms of what we see of him before he falls under Hannibal’s spell:

— Will’s guilt stems from an action (shooting Gareth Jacob Hobbs) that most people would consider morally-correct. In Fight Club, on the other hand, the narrator’s guilt stems from condemning strangers to die in order to save his company money.

— The narrator in Fight Club is shown to have been driven by his insomnia to the point of engaging in vampiric support-group grief tourism (which - yikes). By contrast, Will is seen calling Jack Crawford out on the inherently exploitative nature of his “Evil Minds Museum”.

— Whereas the narrator in Fight Club lives a life of hollow consumerist grasping, Will is shown to live a materially-simple life, which he generously shares with a menagerie of abandoned dogs. It is easy to imagine that he would put his dogs’ needs ahead of his own, given that we see him putting time and energy into rescuing and washing Winston, even at the end of a long, exhausting workday.

[Postscript]

I literally typed this whole-ass essay out before I remembered that Edward Norton (who played the narrator in Fight Club) also once played Will Graham (in the 2002 film Red Dragon, which I have not seen, but which I remember Bryan Fuller having credited with giving him the idea to write NBC Hannibal).

[nuzzy]

Det var en ros på graven. Det var alltid hennes favoritblomma. Fischl såg ner på texten på gravstenen. Hon försökte att inte gråta, hon märkte hur det inte funkade.

268 ord. MCD. Implied/referenced Suicide. Hurt no Comfort. Läs taggarna, eller inte. Jag är inte din mamma.

va? jag skriver någonting på svenska? omöjligt.

[creativesplat]

absolutely 100% inspired by @mr-jack-letterman's post on young Stan.

[ghost-bxrd]

Vanished?

“What are you saying?”

There’s static in Bruce’s ears, oppressive and growing louder by the second. His tongue feels numb. His hands are tingling. It feels like the moment before a hurricane is scheduled to rip him apart atom by atom; one step left from dread, course correcting.

“If you failed me like you failed him- I can understand why he would choose to go in anyways.”

“He wouldn’t.”

He wouldn’t. Jason wouldn’t have. No matter how badly Bruce screwed this up— his boy, his precious child, was always so full of life. He would have never- he would never choose—

“You’re a hypocrite, Bruce. Of course he would have. You may as well have kicked him out when you accused him of murder. Obviously, death was the kinder alternative to returning to the streets.”

No. No.

— sneak peak of “Vanished” (an upcoming fic)

[themalhambird]

The world is not real: Charlotte cannot touch it. This -news-, this tragedy  is not real either, and it cannot touch her. There’s too much cotton in her ears, there’s an endless, keening chime slowly boring through her skull- in at one temple, out at the other- a continuous line, all the way through…

She is sitting on the sofa. There’s a cup and saucer cradled in her hands. She doesn’t remember picking it up, but the steam is ghosting over her face. It’s fresh. (Her husband is dead). Polly must have given it to her. (Her husband died at his own hand.) They have a visitor, she ought to be showing more hospitality. She wonders if there’s any of that fruitcake left. (Alfred confessed to murder. Alfred confessed to murder,  and then Alfred murdered himself)

“Mama?”

Polly’s voice, soft and tentative as it is, makes her jump. Tea sloshes, spills over, pools in the delicate saucer. She shakes herself and focuses her gaze on Sir Julian. “That’s not,” she tries, but the sound barely forms. Charlotte pauses, swallows, tries again. “That’s not right,” she says, unsure if she’s really addressing Sir Julian Harker or merely facing his direction whilst trying to bargain with a Higher Power. “That’s not- none of this is right, Alfred wouldn’t- he wouldn’t do any of it, any of this…” But he has. He has, he has, he has, and when he comes home she’s going to skin him alive. “What will we do?” she asks, as the first beginnings of fear worm their way through the numbness of shock. “The disgrace of it-”

“Mama!” Polly cries, indignant. “At this moment, of all moments, your thoughts cannot be of what other people will think- what does that matter, what do any of them matter!”

It matters because they have never been reckless with money, but savings will not last forever and Charlotte doesn’t know if the widows of Police Inspectors who confess to capital offences and then take their own lives qualify for any sort of pension. It matters because the disapprobation of society in any circumstances can be death by a thousand cuts, whereas the widow who has the sympathies of her community has a better chance at maintaining a somewhat genteel situation. It matters because the infamy of the father will cast a shadow over the life and the character of the daughter- the best chance for Polly, now, is marriage, but what respectable, decent man would want a father- in- law six feet deep in unconsecrated ground?

“Mrs Hillinghead,” Sir Julian says solemnly, “I wish to assure you that you and your daughter will have the fullness of my protection. The events of the last twenty four hours- they will not reflect on you, nor on your daughter. You have my word.”

She acknowledges his words without really understanding- it will not be until much later, lying in a too-empty bed and staring up at the ceiling, unable to sleep- that Charlotte will consider that Harker told Polly about Alfred’s death before he told her, that he stood as close to Polly’s chair as proprietary allows for, that he has seemed- these past few weeks- to admire Polly: her beauty, her music. And perhaps nothing will come of it but friendship- , but the friendship of a man that powerful is not an asset to be scorned. And if it turns into anything more…

They were nineteen, she and Alfred, when they married- they had been friends their whole lives before that. And she had known about him:  years before they had married, she had known that  his desires steered his eyes not towards the ranks of giggling, frivolous girls who batted their eyelashes at his well built figure and handsome face, but to other members of his own sex. And she had ignored it, because she knew him: he was too good a man to act on those desires. And he was kind, and gentle, and they were friends, and a husband who would be perfectly happy to conduct a marriage with minimal activity in the matrimonial bed suited Charlotte. She had courted him as much as he had courted her, really, although whether he ever realised that…

And he’s dead. Her best friend of nearly forty years. The murder confession, she has already written off- she neither knows nor cares about the details. If it was a false confession, then he confessed to try and protect someone- probably that journalist, given the confession it prompted to her, and she is furious at him. She is furious at him for not protecting his wife and child, and for not letting the journalist face whatever justice he merited- unless, of course, the man threatened to reveal Alfred’s inclinations, and take the Inspector who had detected his crimes down along with him. That seems, to Charlotte, the most likely explanation. And if the confession is- was- true, then Alfred must have had good reason for taking another man’s life: she has seen him carry spiders in the palm of his hand to release them outside, rather than squash them underfoot; she has listened to him vent his frustrations about officers being too heavy handed with their arrests at more dinners than she can remember. Taking another human life…it must have broken something in his mind, which would explain being in such a state that he would…. It does not matter. Alfred is dead, either way- she is a widow, either way. And she will encourage Julian Harker’s friendship, because if Polly can catch him she will have a comfortable home, and a husband who seems a good hearted and generous man. And she, Charlotte, will grieve Alfred Hillinghead. But if his death unravels into the scandal she fears, then she will take care to grieve him quietly. She will survive this. She has to. She has to survive this so that there’s someone who remembers that Alfred Hillinghead played cricket as a boy and took two sugars in his tea.

[thedrotter]

as a little treat i am sharing with you little Aya doodles I've done over the last few days to unwind ww just little expressions based on lines in-game because those are always fun to draw. nothing too special just biscuit

it's Aya because upon doing bizarrely throughout playthroughs of the game for still unspecified project purposes I've gained a soft spot for her she's my daughter now my mental tier list on my favorite characters is so confusing right now

[epic-the-musical-confessions]

my epic hot take is that if calypso did not love ody in some way he would probably be dead cuz depression. if calypso was "sorry you cant leave this island, ever, not my fault, gods said so" and then fucked off to the sunset to be polite but distant neighbor our boi would probably jump. i would have.

i am not touching any other stuff about her – just saying he would be dead

.

[snorpdawg]

a place where you go to be forgotten.

[briar--rising]

My mom stopped doing therapy a few years ago and I wish that she hadn’t. I mean, a therapist isn’t going to help the fundamental issues, esp not at this point. Heck she was in therapy throughout my entire childhood and it’s not like that made her not abuse me. But her dad just died and she’s having lots of feelings about it and if she took those feelings to a therapist instead of me that would be great. But she flat out refuses every time my dad or I bring it up.

[pochapal]

oh ok so genji's just straight up confirming these deranged things as truth. got it.

[treemice]

I know teen girls are stereotyped to self diagnose with all kinds of personality disorders ("OMG I'm so bipolar" kind of vibe) but do they actually do that? And when they do do they actually believe that they have it? I'm asking this AS a teen kind-of-girl

Because on one hand if they actually believe it I'd understand because idk estrogen makes me gen feel like I'm going fucking insane sometimes. I'm not really a mentally healthy person, I'm prone to depressive episodes and I've been passively suicidal for most of my life, I've had OCD since I was like 7 and I've struggled with SH, so maybe it's just my autism brain thinking that everyone's being literal about that. But idk I've felt like... like a danger to myself before just on the basis of "I'm not normally in this good of a mood, my blood feels like it's dancing, if I jumped off the school balcony i bet I'd survive" and while I know that that's not true and I'd DIE i feel like i have 2 brains, the irrational emotional one, and the logical "you will die don't be a dumbass"/"you're being paranoid relax" one. And when I'm feeling irrational I get scared because I dont feel like i can trust myself to not do something dangerous.

But on the other if they don't mean it its caused me to think a lot of "phases" is normal. Like I was actively suicidal when I was 12 and when i watched a movie about a 12 year old girl that was depressed and a doctor said "being 12 is just one of those ages" I assumed it meant that being suicidal was a normal part of growing up and it'd go away in time.

[dogcasino]

thinking about how much JOY chara brought to the monsters when they fell. "the underground was full of hope" and they overcame their fear of humans enough to spread their settlements throughout the underground and not just stay cramped in the ruins/home. i wonder if they knew. i think if they were able to understand how much of an impact they made in life just by existing and being alive with their family, maybe the plan wouldn't have been made. or gone through with. they had already given the monsters the thing they needed most: hope. if only they could have seen that.

[mayoiayasep]

thought about milgram and got miserable over haruka and muu again

[hum--hallelujah]

Atavan Halen is a really good song and kind of darkly fun but also the second verse literally makes me feel like I'm going to throw up