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Hannibal's dark eyes locked with Will's this time, studying him intently. Searching his mind. Probing in silence for emotions that Will himself didn't understand and couldn't put to words. Neither could the good doctor. Nevertheless, those five words stirred in Hannibal's chest, a dark thrill that travelled downwards with a burn more satisfying than any whiskey from his cabinet.

Amusement crept into his tone as he spoke, continuing to apply pressure to the gaping wound he'd made.

"I'm sure you would."

There was something else too. Pride, perhaps.

But as enjoyable as that feeling was, there was a more pressing matter at hand. Any moment the FBI would be breaking down the door. The seconds ticked by, flashing quicker than the pouring rain outside.

He'd need to move quickly, efficiently. Lock these feelings away until he had the opportunity to release them, somewhere far from Baltimore.

"But you won't be bleeding out today, Will."

There’s something grotesquely erotic about it, Hannibal’s hands at his open wound, Will’s blood soaking them in waves in line with his heartbeat. Intimacy in having someone literally hold his life in his hands. For Hannibal, to choose whether to take it, or to give it back, let Will’s heart keep beating. Delirious imagery of Hannibal’s hands wrapped our his literal heart as it beats in his chest flood his mind.

He knows Abigail’s still-warm body lies next to him on the floor. He’s decided not to look, but he feels like he can see her, anyway. Hannibal holding his beating heart, now outside his body. Abigail, corpse-pale, turning into a skeleton as if in a time-lapse, staring at him.

He’s seeing two things at once, the seams between reality and hallucination blurring rapidly.

Hannibal did not miss. Of course. The purpose hadn’t been to kill, but to hurt, like Will had hurt him. Still... where do they go from here? They. Because Hannibal is there, deft hands putting pressure against the cut. If he doesn’t run soon, he’s not going to get away with it.

❝ M-my life... in your hands... Doctor Lecter... And you’d spare it...? ❞    Will slurs, thick irony in his tone. He laughs, blood bubbling at his lips.    ❝ I’d watch you bleed out. ❞    Would he? Their positions switch in his mind, blood in his hands, looming over Hannibal in his mental image. He keeps pressing. He keeps pressing.

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Then it’s not Hobbs’ ghost that’s haunting you, is it? It’s the inevitability of there being a man so bad that killing him felt good. ⸺ Hannibal 1.02: Amuse-Bouche

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if you have "original characters do not interact" or some form of anti-original character language in your rules... you are weak and will not survive the winter. you're missing out on unbelievably inventive characters created by your deeply passionate peers. you're missing out on so many types of interactions and unique perspectives not found in current mainstream media and the content it produces. there are so many talented people in the rpc with amazing original characters, and you're just writing them off for no reason. what a shame.

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CBS Elementary + canon references • Sherlock Holmes once said

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Going to do some general blog maintenance and an aesthetic refresh, gradually, to try and bring myself back to both blogs.

I'm also dropping Peter Quill, Rocket Raccoon and Aziraphale.

Still love them dearly. Just don't feel like writing them anymore and had limited interaction so they're being put away. And I want a shorter muse list.

[omniishambles]

Going to do some general blog maintenance and an aesthetic refresh, gradually, to try and bring myself back to both blogs.

I'm also dropping Peter Quill, Rocket Raccoon and Aziraphale.

Still love them dearly. Just don't feel like writing them anymore and had limited interaction so they're being put away. And I want a shorter muse list.

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i’m sorry you have such negative feelings about me killing all those people 🙄

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x Elise x Insidious (2010)

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Hannibal S3E13 The Wrath of the Lamb

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@hvbris // & CLARICE

Her scent entered the car before she did, not unpleasant, but overpowering to his skilled sense of smell. It was expensive. He breathed the layered scents of amber and jasmine as she climbed into the seat next to him, and no doubt he'd identify a few more notes as the evening wore on.

It piqued his interest, however. She was making quite an effort. That much was evident too in the way she'd dressed tonight, subtly tugging at the hem of her dress as it rode up a milky white thigh. A beautiful woman who wasn't accustomed to being so, and certainly not at flaunting it.

Hannibal was no stranger to beautiful women. Or men, for that matter. In the position of power and influence he held, he was spoilt for choice. But Rosie George from the simple suburbs of Virginia, trying so hard to be everything but what she was, held his attention.

Which was exactly what she wanted. That amused him.

"Don Giovanni." He replied, tucking away the phone he'd been perusing just moments before. He had a business to run, after all. Though it was a smooth operation, every cog accounted for. He could afford the rest of the evening for entertainment.

Hannibal tilted his head as he looked at her, making it clear he was taking everything in. Then he leaned forward, purposely taking a sniff of her perfume even though he needn't have bothered getting so close.

"Is that Guerlain?"

@omniishambles . Hannibal & Clarice

Clarice was new to all of this -the opera, the expensive dresses. But in the end, it all worked out. It was part of her persona after all. Rosie George, the country girl. Easily dazzled and tempted. She imagined that Jack Crawford had not picked it at random. He knew her background; he knew she was an orphan girl from West Virginia.

No matter how much she tried to flee from her past, it always seemed to catch up with her. She even let her accent slip around Hannibal. Humiliating, but for a good cause, she supposed. If she could do this assignment -get close to him, gather information- then she'd be assured a golden path all through the Academy, straight into the Bureau of Behavioral Science.

The FBI had given her money to buy dresses and shoes, and the entire thing had made her cringe. But she wasn't going to seduce anyone with her off-the-rack suits and cheap shoes, now, was she? Not that they had given her that much money, mind you, and her new dress was too snug, enough to bother her as she sat down inside the car, next to Hannibal. But most of the money had gone into buying a perfume, more expensive than anything she owned. It lingered all around her, nestled in her neck. She'd heard Hannibal had a nose like a hound, and she figured an enticing scent would be a step in the right direction.

"I'm glad you called," she said with a smile. Clarice did not see herself as a particularly seductive person, but she had still managed to pique his attention enough to earn herself a few more dates. "Where are we going tonight?"

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@multipleoccupancy // & LORENZO

He wasn't the first priest to sit in on a lecture, but he was the first to ask for her assistance. And he was no ordinary priest from down the block either, if the accent wasn't enough of a giveaway.

"Well..." She laughed, surprised to be approached by someone from the Vatican, "I don't know, that sounds very official..."

It piqued her curiosity for certain! And that was why she waved that hesitation away, leaning back against the desk and adjusting her pastel coloured scarf. It was a way to settle her nerves. Because this was clearly something serious if she was being approached by the Catholic Church directly.

That, and his earnest nature, made up her mind to hear him out. That was the least she could do, right?

"Of course, Father. It's a pleasure to meet you. How can I help, exactly?"

Lorenzo had seen plenty of the supernatural in his life already, in his own mind he was just doing as he was told with direct orders from the height of The Vatican's hierarchy. However he was given free reign on how to deal with such 'missions' and Lorenzo was not so proud as to admit that sometimes he needed help.

Elise Rainier was famous enough in his own circles that he didn't fear showing up to her lecture. While others might have been sceptical or seeking a different sort of help from her, Lorenzo was grateful that they had the room to themselves by the end. He chuckled as she addressed him, jolly as he gave a small shrug. "I am an open book," he teased gently and approached the desk.

"Perdonami, I did not want to interrupt, but most enjoyed your talk." Curious indeed about her methods and experience, Lorenzo was happy to have the excuse to learn more about the world otherwise unknown. "I am Padre Thomas Lorenzo, you are correct I have much on my mind," he gestured to his head but he didn't seem troubled at least. "I am here on behalf of The Vatican to help a young man who is suffering. I believe, Signorina Rainier, that I will be needing your expertise in this case. If you would help?"

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@multipleoccupancy // & LORENZO

There were a few usual suspects who Elise could count on attending her lectures. Those with a genuine interest in the paranormal, from official researchers to casual ghost hunters. Those who didn't believe at all and were purely there for their own amusement- or to try and prove her a charlatan.

And those who needed help. Who had nobody else to turn to with their particular kind of problem.

As she gathered her notes together at the end of another class, there were a handful of attendees stopping by the desk to thank her or ask further questions. But she couldn't help but notice the man who was skilfully lingering behind, no doubt for his own opportunity to speak with her.

Away from any potential listening ears, it seemed. So when the room had finally cleared, she offered him a smile and a raised eyebrow.

"Now, you look like there's something heavy weighing on your mind...am I right?"

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MOVIES WATCHED IN 2019 — (3/?) ↳ Insidious: The Last Key, 2018.

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Not on hiatus, but I'm also...not super feeling RP at this exact moment in time.

So consider me as gone walkabout instead ✌️

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“What do you need that for?” “Um, she tells me what she sees and I draw it.”