#never knew to the extent what happened between him and hannibal

[charleemoon]

thinking about how torturous it must've been in those months where will had no one. how much he would have to hold back seeing hannibal, until he found molly and was able to start placing the pieces of a life without him together. how many different ways did he find to keep himself from going back? did he ever think twice, or did he bury him that night, laying in bed while hannibal was arrested at his front door? did hannibal's words haunt him? the intensity and devotion burning in his maroon gaze? how long did it take him to adjust to life without hannibal? forgetting all the intensity, the turmoil and pain, in how many little ways did he realize hannibal was gone? he had been without him when he ran to florence, but it wasn't a moments wake without thinking of getting back to him, before he was on a boat to find him. with him truly gone, how many small things did he find different without him? without his only friend? how much space in will's life did he take without will realizing, every breakfast and dinner, meetings and smiles in passing, thoughtless yet endlessly meaningful touches that burned into his skin? did will finally feel the voracious loneliness of what his life truly was before he had somewhere to belong, someone to be seen by. out in the middle of nowhere, in the freezing cold, waking up with a chill of his sweat soaked clothes, with no one to call. how was he able to stomach it all

[vernicosa]

IGN TV: Hannibal Lecter is obviously this beloved character, and there have been great movies about him in the past. But when you’re offered something like this, I’d imagine there might be some trepidation too, just because it comes with so much baggage and expectations.

Bryan Fuller: You know, it wasn’t so much trepidation as it was just excitement of the missing chapter, for me, and of when he was a practicing psychiatrist and a practicing cannibal. We had never seen that story. We had seen the prequel Hannibal Rising, when he was a young man around World War II, and certainly post-incarceration. But the unexplored chapter of the Hannibal Lecter story that doesn’t exist in literature or film or on television is when he was a practicing psychiatrist and cannibal. I thought that was a validity in and of itself, to bring this character back. I’m sure a lot of people were like, “Ugh, leave it alone.” But we ended on Hannibal Rising, which I wasn’t a huge fan of, and I wanted to get back into the heart of the character in a way that I saw him. I was never really connected to the Hannibal Rising version of the character because he was such a young man that I think who Hannibal Lecter is as a sophisticate and a man of the world just does not translate when you’re seeing a young man murderer. He seems more of a punk than someone who is well aware of life and stakes.

IGN: I’m very intrigued by the portrayal of Will Graham, another person who’s been played by a couple of great actors in the past. Here, obviously a big difference between previous versions is that we are seeing much more of Will’s career before anything happens with actually catching Hannibal. In Red Dragon, he's married, but here, he’s very much a loner. You’ve got this very intriguing thing where he talks about where he is "on the spectrum" and the fact that he really has some problems with interpersonal relationships. How did that come to you?

Fuller: Well, we were looking at our timeline and saying, “Season 4 is Red Dragon”, so where Will is psychologically in terms of his confidence and approach to solving these crimes? We would see Molly in Season 3, and that’s when we would introduce that character. Also, how Will Graham got to be in a relationship based on his idiosyncrasies, that would be part of the story that we’re telling with him, as going from a man who is on the outside looking in at the human condition -- because he is so vulnerable and sensitive to other people that he has to protect himself from that. There are a couple of things in the book that were indicative of certain personality disorders or neuroses that I thought, “Oh, he’s actually much more complicated than any of the kind of stoic heroes that we’ve seen portrayed by William Peterson and Ed Norton.” So it felt like there was, like with Hannibal, an opportunity to explore a chapter in Will Graham’s life that we hadn’t seen, but was indicated in the literature, whether it was when he’s talking to a police detective or Molly’s son about how he caught the Minnesota Shrike or Hannibal Lecter.

There was a very thin history that we could work within, which was we knew that Will Graham was investigating a serial killer called the Minnesota Shrike and after catching him was so traumatized by that event that he had to go into psychiatric care. Instead of positing that he was just with a random psychiatrist, the break in the canon of the literature that we took was that that psychiatrist would be Hannibal Lecter. Because he doesn’t really know Hannibal Lecter in the literature. He had two meetings with him. One was to question him about a murder, and the second was a follow up. Then in that follow up he realized, “This guy’s the killer,” and then Hannibal guts him with a carpet knife, and Will captures him. So that was the extent of their relationship. What I thought, there was so much promise in the line where Hannibal says, “You caught me because you’re more like me than you’re willing to admit.” I thought that was the heart of the television series.

IGN: Jack Crawford has a very interesting role in this story, especially because he kind of ends up using Hannibal as a sounding board, a confidant, as well. So will it be interesting to track both Jack and Will’s relationships with Hannibal, and will they differ dramatically?

Fuller: Oh yeah, there are big, big differences. It’s interesting to me to read different perspectives on how we’re going to approach the show. We go from the pilot to episode 13, which is such a dramatic arc, and it really kicks up around the last third of the season where the stakes of the story become dramatically richer and greater than what you thought they were at the beginning of the show. I think we cover a lot more real estate in those 13 episodes than people are expecting us to, and I’m looking forward to seeing how surprised people are. What they’re expecting us to do and what we actually do I think are going to be two different things.

IGN: There were some expectations early on when we heard the concept. “Okay, so it’s Will and Hannibal, and they’re sort of working together on cases each week,” which to some extent is occurring. But having seen the first five episode, there’s much more of a through line from the first case and the first episode and characters continuing from that. Was that sort of an interesting balance for you, to how much you put in the new killers and how much you continue that specific plot line set up in the first episode?

Fuller: For me, the “killer of the week” or “case of the week” had to have some psychological connection to what Will Graham was experiencing. There was an importance of not just being a case that you would see on a traditional crime procedural that involved rape and murder, because we have a brand that we’re honoring with what Thomas Harris has crafted in his own unique genre. So there was a devotion to the purple opera that exists with the characters and the types of killers that are presented in the Thomas Harris books that you see -- not only Hannibal Lecter, who is the cannibal psychiatrist, which right off the bat is a heightened, fascinating point of view of a killer, someone who can get inside your head and start consuming what he finds there -- but you have the Red Dragon, who is a man who feels like he is evolving into a super being because of his inability to deal with his own mortality and the finite nature of his life. You also have Buffalo Bill, who is a man who wants to become a woman, so he is making a woman suit out of real women that he can put on and achieve his own transformation of self. So there’s a great psychological component to all of the murderers that we’ve seen in the Thomas Harris literature that I felt a responsibility to tell stories in that same approach, that we needed an element of purple opera.

IGN: The previous shows that you created and were integral on always had a strong sense of humor and a witty tone to them. Certainly this, on the surface and the overall subject matter, seems darker. But was it interesting for you to find those places where you could still insert wit -- Hannibal himself has always been a character with a sense of humor – and find those moments where there could be some levity amongst the darkness?

Fuller: Absolutely. I think there is an element of this show that functions as a very, very dark comedy. When you have a serial killer whose approach is to eat the rude and refers to his victims as “free-range rude,” there is an inherent wit to that that was delicious. Hugh and I, we talked a lot about Will Graham’s psychology, and I would often walk him through where we’re going with the show and what’s happening and what’s coming up, so he knew where he needed to be on his arc. We would cackle like fiends when talking about certain things that happened in upcoming episodes, because they were so horrible and heightened in their own way that they didn’t necessarily read as true crime, but as a kind of amplification of reality and what you could actually do to a body and why you would do it. So we had a giddy glee at some of the horrible places that we were going. But when you put it into the tone of the show and you translate it into the horror vocabulary, it’s obviously not as laugh-out-loud funny. [Laughs] But if you break it down and say, “Oh, there’s a guy who’s actually making catgut strings out of people,” and it’s kind of snicker inducing. But in the context of that episode, it’s dark and scary, and the guy is a villain. But yeah, talking about it, it was easier to find the humor than actually seeing it, which I think is what we should do because we want to be true to the tone of the books, which was not heavy-handed in its humor at all, but there was definitely a dark humor at work.

IGN: Speaking of content, when this show was announced, there were people saying, “How can this work on network? This should obviously be on cable. It’ll feel softened on a network.” Having seen those five episodes, it doesn’t feel softened to me, but what were your conversations like with the network and how did you walk that line? What was the line?

Fuller: Well the line was really what was appropriate for the brand, and we are dealing with a brand. Hannibal Lecter is a franchise character, so we had to be respectful of honoring the genre in which this character lives. The early conversation with NBC was, “Will you let us tell the story the way it needs to be told?” And the answer was “Yes.” We talked about content, we talked about gore. Having worked on Heroes that first season, we went to some very gory place. We had Hayden Panettiere on an autopsy table flayed open right down the middle, and you saw the skinned meat of her breasts as she folded the flaps back over the open wound, and they healed. It was pretty gory! So I knew that we could go places, and I knew that television had evolved and needed to continue to evolve. We are a ten o’clock show, and we are an adult content show, and we are a horror movie. So we needed to have all those elements of a horror movie, and they were very supportive that we would go there. And there were certain things we weren’t allowed to do, but they weren’t unreasonable things. I found in doing -- because I was very excited about it -- we had to do the “Unsuitable for Broadcast Television” version of the show, where we got to show everything that we shot in its true-gore glory. There were over half of the episodes where there’s nothing more to put in them, because we had already shown it all.

IGN: A big topic of conversation in January at the TCA [Television Critics Association] press tour was the whole violence on TV issue. I grew up a huge horror fan, and I agree with you as far as I love seeing that stuff and appreciating the craftsmanship and the fun of it. So where do you stand when this question comes up and people are saying, “Are you worried about this content and the influence of this content?” What do you feel about that?

Fuller: Well, I think we have a responsibility to the genre and the genre audience first. That’s where I feel my responsibility is as a member of that audience and somebody who has a voice in defending its merits. I take my role very seriously. I asked this to David Slade. We were in lockstep on our approach to the horror on this show, and we’re both horror fans, we both love the genre. We both feel we’re respecting the genre with the work that we’re doing, and we take that very seriously, because I don’t want to see a domesticated Hannibal. It’s the difference between a bear and a circus bear. I want to see the bear.

IGN: Just that you’ve got this, Bates Motel, The Following launching pretty close together – So do you think, yeah, it’s just a bunch of people at the same time saying, “This is the kind of stuff I grew up loving, and I want to explore these things again”?

Fuller: Yeah, and I actually know Kevin Williamson and love his work and love him as a human being. We were at a party, and he was like, “What are you working on?” I was like, “I’m doing Hannibal Lecter,” and he was like, “Oh! I’m doing Hannibal Lecter! I’m doing my own version of Hannibal Lecter.” So it was kind of funny that we were both greatly inspired by Thomas Harris and the world that he created. And yet Kevin was going off and doing an original take on the dynamics of the story and the characters and the villain. I was able to go back to the source, but we were both absolutely inspired by Thomas Harris in a way that is a lot of fun and kind of shows two different writers approaching the same material from two completely different perspectives, both of them valid. It’s kind of an interesting side-by-side comparison because both shows are very Thomas Harris-ian.

IGN: You mentioned the fourth season being the Red Dragon story. Do you think it’ll be 13 episodes a year? How do you see the whole thing going?

Fuller: Well, it’s absolutely 13 episodes a season. For me, Red Dragon is Season 4, and splitting the time over Season 5 and Season 6 would be the era of Silence of the Lambs -- we don’t have the rights to any of the characters that originate in Silence of the Lambs, but that’s not to say that Clarice Starling was the only trainee that Jack Crawford ever sent to interview a serial killer. You’ve seen the fifth episode, so you know that he’s done it before. So my dream is that -- because MGM has the rights to any character that originated in Silence of the Lambs, and we have the rights to any character that originated in Red Dragon or Hannibal or Hannibal Rising. We actually approached MGM because I desperately wanted to tell the story of how that head ended up in a jar in Silence of the Lambs. So we approached MGM -- who can’t use Hannibal Lecter in their Clarice Starling show -- and said, “If we let you have letters from Hannibal Lecter and have a relationship… You don’t necessarily see him on screen, but you can actually acknowledge the history of Clarice Starling. What if we got the rights to Benjamin Raspail and Jame Gumb/Buffalo Bill. That way, we could be telling the definitive Hannibal Lecter stories and acknowledge his existence in both shows.” They were like, “No, what’s ours is ours, and what’s yours is yours.” Then we said, “Pretty please?” And they said, “No, what’s ours is ours, and what’s yours is yours.” So we said, “Can we sit down face-to-face and talk about this?” We did, and they said, “What’s ours is ours, and what’s yours is yours.” [Laughs] So they were very definitive about where they stood. So what we did in the arc that we had for Benjamin Raspail and Jame Gumb in the first season, we did a different story about a patient of Hannibal Lecter’s who had ties to a serial killer in a unique way. Instead of Benjamin Raspail, we did Franklin Froideveaux -- Benjamin Franklin and then Froideveaux is a street that runs parallel to Raspail in Paris. So we were acknowledging in some way that’s the role that we were filling in this season, with those characters and that story you’re going to see.

IGN: Knock on wood, this show continues into future seasons. Are you hoping that maybe they’ll change their mind and something can be worked out?

Fuller: Absolutely. I hope they look at the show and say, “Oh, this is really cool, and it’s a classy approach to the material, and we want to be associated with it,” and that maybe they will change their minds. But they sold the rights to a Clarice Starling story to Lifetime, and it’s been in development for a few years. It’s turned around and then redeveloped and turned around and redeveloped. I’m sticking pins in a voodoo doll of that show and hoping that it just goes away so they can see that, really, this is the best thing for the audience… Which is always my approach to these things, because I do feel my place in the audience, and as somebody who’s been given a the opportunity to have a voice in how things can proceed, I do have a responsibility, very heavily. So I, as an audience member, want Clarice Starling to be tied into Hannibal Lecter and see one definitive source for the Hannibal Lecter story, which would be this show. But time will tell. Maybe we’ll launch a letter-writing campaign to MGM!

[waragainstyourfaith]

Thank you to @broughtmeyourlove for listening to the beginnings of this (aka when I first got my thoughts down) and thank you to me for saying all this in the shower but most importantly thank you @hannibalhadalittlelamb whose art got me to finally think deeper about the nature of Hannibal’s trial. Let’s begin.

Hannibal’s trial isn’t something I usually see discussed within the fandom space. And why would it be? We know the final verdict and we know that besides that everything works out in the end anyway. It’s an afterthought. So who would care? That’s like reading the first few chapters of a book to skip to the final one. Characters change and so does the story as a whole.

On @/hannibalhadalittlelamb’s post (here), their tags read that their depiction of Hannibal is leaning into OOC (out of character) territory. I disagree.

During Hannibal’s trial, we have to think about how it would have gone down. Actually. There was no possible way for Will to miss or be exempt from this trial. His coworkers and boss knew his strong relation to Hannibal and how their professional relationship had definitely, at some point or another, turned personal. The mutual attempts of murder had not been lost on anyone, but, of course, that made Will all the more personal a witness.

However, Will wants nothing to do with Hannibal.

I understand there is a popular theory going around that Will and Hannibal were in a sort of understanding during the trial, but, honestly? We see Will desperately wanting to remain kept away from Hannibal, to live a normal life with a wife and son. Hannibal throws a wrench into this whole ordeal and this trial, after what conspired between them overseas, leaves Will in the headspace and with the opportunity to quite literally never see Hannibal again in his life.

And after everything and with what Will thinks he wants, how could he deny that? Helping Hannibal rule into the insanity plea was not an act of mercy but an act of protection. Will more than anyone knows Hannibal should be kept under 24/7 surveillance and away from every person he could ever harm. Being ruled out of given the death penalty was the underlying bonus his conscience wouldn’t let him think too deeply about.

In court, you are sworn in on the bible, on God, to tell “the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth [...] So help you God.”. Both Will and Hannibal were undoubtedly sworn in, but considering the argument Hannibal’s legal team was using, would you trust a man under the insanity plea or his victim who is an FBI agent more? Right.

So, Will is given free rein in this courtroom to spin the story of him and Hannibal whichever way he pleases. Seeing what I mentioned before, Will is going to remove himself as far away from Hannibal as he can while still being able to confidentially and securely reveal everything without getting his hands dirty nor embarrassing himself. Hannibal does not get this luxury.

Hannibal is a man of his privacy. As many analyses have written and as many real psychologists have said while dissecting the headspace of Hannibal, his need to eat people is his need to control. The trauma Hannibal went through with Mischa, whether you know the depth of it or just the surface, is enough context to explain what happens next. Hannibal eats them. Attitude is Hannibal’s one basis of morals and consensus. “One should always eat the rude”.

To determine their fate and to consume them is him “playing God”, but at its core, it is Hannibal needing to be in control. We see the severity of his true, underlying, desperation come to light at a first glimpse with the gruesome death of Beverly Katz. Undoubtedly, this is one of his most haunting scenes and we see the insides(dissection) of Beverly as she had attempted to find in Hannibal by going through his home. By sneaking a glance under the person suit. His inner monster comes out in a rage during this murder. He is private and anything that anyone knows about Hannibal is what he has allowed them to live to be able to say so. Look at Will’s position once more.

What no one seems to realize is that, during this trial, Hannibal is not in control. Will is the spinster of their life, a life Hannibal used his truest of colors to paint, and ultimately watched it becomes torn to shreds in front of him. Remember, Will is sworn in during this trial. This does not necessarily mean he is telling the truth, but it means everyone thinks he is. It’s a play of tragedy and Hannibal and Will are the two lead star-crossed lovers.

The entirely of Hannibal and the world he has handed to Will on a sparkling platter is being dissected and shown to everyone. The story of the Chesapeake Ripper was undoubtedly massive. A criminal having not been caught for years that everyone seemed to know nothing about revealed to be one of the closest, inside links with the FBI themselves? Tale of the decade.

The spotlight is on Hannibal, but he is being puppeteered by Will without a say in it for himself.

Hannibal cracks as he’s poked and prodded and bare for the media to do as they like and Will sits by and says what he likes. Here is where we would see a sliver of what lays beneath their person suits. Hannibal’s impulsivity and monstrousness under his charming exterior and Will’s manipulative, isolatedness under his empathetic cloak.

We look at Hannibal. He would be torn to shreds from this. The porcelain pot that contains his beast has broken and shattered by the swatting hand of Will, someone he trusted and loved. The intruding eyes of the jury stay on him as he is diagnosed as insane while he considers himself to be in the best possible headspace he ever could be. Everything he told Will and what he considered truth from Will’s mouth was dismissed and disputed under oath.

Hannibal is embarrassed. People call him insane and lock him away at dig through his mind and his things without his permission with protruding needles and telescopes. Hannibal has to play nice to simply be allowed a working toilet and the books that he has collected himself. Anything and everything he writes and draws that he wants to send out is dissected and analyzed. He has no privacy. He is not allowed a toe out of line.

Looking back at Hannibal from season one, episode seven is a good one to compare from, and when we see him first after year years in isolation, we see plain as day these are not the same men. In season one, Hannibal is handsome and cunning enough so that he wiggles his way into the deepest, most protected parts of the FBI as one of the highest-ranked killers on their watch list. He is polite enough to even invite them to dinner and feed them the organs of his victims.

He’s slick and intelligent and Hannibal is the idea of a lifetime.

And then we come to the second half of season three.

Hannibal, at this point, has been isolated for three years and has been under painful scrutiny even longer. During this time, he’s had all the space he could get to rebuild the person suit, but the pieces won’t fit. It’s jaggedly put together and no matter how long he spends trying to perfect its construction to what it used to be, it isn’t what it used to be. Will had done that to him. Will had effectively broken Hannibal.

I see often the running gag that season three is immensely funnier and leaning much more into the comedy aspect of Hannibal during his interactions with Will and Alana and even jack to an extent. But this is not him being funny; this is Hannibal pushing limits.

Looking back to paragraph eleven [“To determine their fate and consume them…”] we come back to Hannibal’s need to control. Remember, in this space, Hannibal is shoved into line. He’s snappy and cynical here. This is Hannibal exercising his limits and testing patience. His acting out and making snide comments is nothing he can be punished for, but it clearly agitates them. Hannibal teeters just enough on the edge of annoyance so that his jabs still hit, but his privileges still remain.

This is his monster leaking through the cracks. Hannibal is desperate. He is grasping for a hold over these people he had looked down upon from his throne in the sky as God for so long. He is rude. This is both his shield and deception. It leaves Hannibal with the idea that he is effectively feeding them out of his hand, that he has them right where he wants them. When Hannibal does this, it is his last line of defense to keep himself from blowing up. Ruining it all.

Season three is not season one. He is gasping and hurt and that is what makes the Dolarhyde kill all the more powerful. The whiplash and bounce back with his and Will’s relationship is powerful and dangerous.

Will watching Hannibal with his dead stare, person suit thrown off the moment he decided to go with Hannibal into that car, as he is shot is groundbreaking. Hannibal can see Will. they have effectively switched positions. As though he were God, Will looks down on Hannibal’s suffering. When Will decides to fight Dolarhyde in retaliation,  this is the point it all cuts lose.

At that moment, Will has freed the beast. Hannibal has finally someone to take the reins of his monster whom he trusts. Because Hannibal never blamed Will, even during that time in his isolation, he was waiting. Waiting for Will because despite the betrayal and despite the hurt he loved him. All that time he loved him.

The Dolarhyde kill is the messiest one of the show, which makes it all the more powerful. Hannibal has--I don’t want to say “lost composure”--but he definitely has dropped the act of his togetherness. In this, Hannibal is free. So long he has spent trying to hold himself together, to fool those around him and take care of everyone and himself. 

It’s a common misconception that a person in a position of power, such as a CEO, would want to be in this position all of the time. In fact, it’s been shown that the human mind needs a healthy balance. A person who is pushed around on a day-to-day basis and has no control over their life would most likely enjoy having control over a person and vice versa.

God must be tired. Hannibal was. Wearing his person suit for years and years, with only a dangerous outlet to relieve the built-up tension of his monster. To place the control into Will’s hands is inevitable and the best relief for both of them. Hannibal in killing and Will in power.

In that final scene, Hannibal has surrendered control to Will while barring the entirety of what lay within and Will has a high enough apathy for this to no longer have any hold over him. They have switched their roles. Now, Will is the one pulling the strings and Hannibal is the one letting himself be maneuvered.

This trial was the turn of the tables. It was the biggest part of their character and the biggest foreshadowing for the finale.

In Florence, Hannibal has the hold over Will. In season two, Will has the hold over Hannibal. In season one, Hannibal has the hold over Will. This trial that has been left out was the missing piece to even their stance and to level their playing field, making it easiest for the two to blur.

The trial is effectively and consequently one of if not the most important scene that was missing from the show.

[darling-i-read-it]

Losing Dogs

Will Graham x reader

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: intrusive thoughts, will thinking he’s not good enough :(

Author’s Note: I hope this was kind of what you wanted! I took what I thought the general theme was and came up with this. I hope you like it love :) 

Requested: by anon, Hello my darling girl, i’m not really sure if u taking requests or not, but i was hoping u could write something inspired of the song I bet on losing dogs by Mitski with Will Graham, I just love him and that song is the perfect example of the relationship between Will x Reader/Oc in my opinion, sorry for the inconvenience u can always ignore this if u want to, ones again i’m sorry 💗

Summary: the request 

Genre: angst 

Song: I Bet On Losing Dogs by Mitski 

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

(not my gif) (pretty boy) 

Will understood himself to an extent. But if he was asked who knew him best he would answer you. He wasn’t sure why or how taht happened but he knew that you knew him the best. That scared him. It scared him to know that someone knew him more than he knew himself. That someone remembered conversations he had no memory of having. 

You knew Will so well. You knew that he was going to break if you let Jack get a hand on him. You knew Hannibal was going to be able to twist his mind before it even happened. You could read his movements without thinking. And Will saw himself as the end of the stick. He saw himself as someone who couldn’t be loved because of his life, his problems, his mind. 

Part of him hated the idea of you being in love with him. 

He couldn’t live up to that in his mind. Even if he gave you every drop of love he had in his body then he wouldn’t be able to live up to your love. 

You pulled up to Will’s house. The gravel crunched underneath the wheels of your car as you parked. The air was cold when you got out. Prickly. 

Will opened the door. He had heard you pull up but he didn’t know you were coming. The dogs ran past him into the yard to play around with each other. You waved at him halfheartedly and he didn’t return the wave which was odd. 

You walked up to him slowly.

“I’m sorry to come unannounced,” you said stiffly. His vibe was making you stiff. Something was wrong.

“It’s alright. I have to head out soon.”

“No you don’t,” you said quickly. You shook your head. “I’m sorry, that sounded overbearing. I just know you don’t have any work tonight is all.” Will cursed you for knowing so much about him. 

He couldn’t let you keep loving him like this. You deserved the world and he could barely give you a pebble.

“Can I come inside?” He nodded and moved away from the door to let you pass him which you did. He followed you inside, calling the dogs back in. They came running. You looked over at him, messing with teh sleeves of your jacket. “What is it?” 

“We need to talk.” You hated that. It gave you a pit in your stomach.

“Well then say what you need to say before you give me more anxiety than I already have,” you muttered. 

“I don’t think we should...keep seeing each other.” You raised an eyebrow.

“I didn’t think you were going to say that,” you whispered. He knew that was a step away from what you usually would have said. “May I ask why?” You seemed to be taking this well. 

“I don’t think we’re working out.” You took a deep breath and collected your thoughts.

“If you’re truly telling me the truth I’ll leave. I will. But I feel like I know you enough to know you’re lying to me.” You walked up to him and slowly, raised an arm up to his cheek. He didn’t move. He didn’t react at first. You touched his cheek and he leaned into your touch. 

His face scrunched up into a pained expression and he shook his head softly. He wanted to cry.

“You’re betting on a losing dog by staying with me,” he whispered. You shook your head. That made you want to cry. 

You wrapped your arm around him, holding the back of his head, lightly tugging on his curls. You inhaled him. You had been scared that he was really wanting you to go. Having him in your arms now was like ecstasy. You pulled away just enough to look into his eyes while they were down and shook your head again.

“I love you so much Will Graham. I don’t care what you are but you’re the one I want. You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted. I don’t want you to think like this.” You took a deep breath and held him tighter. “Maybe you’re the one betting on a losing dog Will.” He actually laughed out loud at that. 

“As if.” You kissed him and he let you and he couldn’t deny that your kiss was like drugs to him. He could never get enough of you. 

“I want you to be okay,” you whispered against his lips. “I can’t bring myself to leave you.” He felt relieved to hear that. It was what he needed to hear.

“Then stay.” 

“I plan on it.”

[ultrahpfan5blog]

Rewatching TDK Trilogy

Easily my favorite superhero trilogy and arguably one of my favorite trilogies of all time. I think in terms of superhero trilogies, Captain America is the one that comes closest because I love all three movies, but they aren’t a trilogy in the normal sense in that Civil War is essentially Avengers 2.5 and neither Civil War nor Winter Soldier can be understood without having watched Avengers and Age of Ultron. But even putting that aside, I adore TDK trilogy and it still ranks as my favorite superhero movies. The trilogy, obviously starting with Batman Begins, is what put introduced me to Nolan. I hadn’t seen Memento and Insomnia till then so Batman Begins was literally my first introduction to him.

I was always a big Batman fan as a huge follower of the DCAU cartoons with Kevin Conroy voicing a really badass Batman throughout the 90′s and into the early 2000′s. While I enjoyed the first 4 Batman movies as a kid, yes even B&R, I always wanted to see the more somber version from the cartoons. Batman Begins hit me at the perfect time where I started to have longer attention spans and wasn’t just looking for the next action scene. Rewatching the movie, it amazes me that Batman doesn’t show up for half the movie. I think that was a really brave call given pretty much all previous Batman movies introduced Batman almost immediately. I genuinely love all the prelude to Bruce becoming Batman. I liked that we got to see his training extensively and we are introduced to the city and see the dynamics of the rich and the poor, the police, the mob, the lawyers etc... It really gives Gotham a very grounded personality. I think Nolan really killed it at the casting level. By getting Caine as Alfred, Freeman as Fox, and Oldman as Gordon, he created a superbly acted support structure around Bruce/Batman, so we aren’t just always waiting for Bruce to show up. On top of that, they had Liam Neeson as Ra’s, who is effortlessly compelling, as well as other strong supporting actors like Cillian Murphy as a scene stealing Scarecrow, Tom Wilkinson as Falcone, Rutger Hauer as Earle etc... All giving personality to a difference facet of the city and Bruce’s life. But this truly is Bale’s movie. I didn’t know him at all prior to this film, but I have been a fan ever since. He carries the movie on his shoulders and he delivers the ferociousness of Batman and the humanity of Bruce Wayne effortlessly. If there is someone who doesn’t make a big impression, its Katie Holmes. I didn’t find her terrible, but rather the character isn’t exactly well written which bleeds into the next movie with Maggie Gyllenhall as well. My favorite Batman performance. Rewatching, what surprised me the most is the amount of humor in the movie. This is actually reflective of the entire trilogy. The movies deal with darkness and death, but there is actually plenty of humor sprinkled throughout these movies which prevent it from being dour. There have been a lot of superhero origin stories, but this still remains the gold standard of superhero origin stories. A 9/10 for me.

There is nothing I can say about The Dark Knight that hasn’t been said a 100 times over. It quite literally is the best comic book movie of all time. But it basically is at heart a drama about Gotham. Whereas BB acts as a character centric piece, this film is about all the characters living in Gotham. Arguable, the character that has the biggest arc in the film is Harvey Dent. Again, the casting department knocked it out of the park with the casting of Aaron Eckhart as Harvey Dent. Unfortunately, Eckhart never really capitalized on his performance here because he really was terrific in the film, both as Harvey and as Two-Face, to the point where you wished you had more of Two-Face. Gary Oldman gave his best work in the trilogy in this movie. The desperation as the situation spins out of control is fabulous. Freeman also has a very meaty role in the movie and continues to add a lot of weight to the scenes as well as plenty of humor, as does Michael Caine. Christian Bale continued to be terrific. There were some complaints about his voice, which I feel have been overexaggerated over the years. I definitely think his Begins voice is better, but barring one or two scenes, I never really had an issue with Bale’s voice in this film. He delivers a very nuanced performance. Maggie Gyllenhaal took over from Katie Holmes in TDK and while I think she is a far better actress than Katie Holmes, I think the character itself is not very well written. In both movies, Rachel comes off as very judgmental. Whereas in BB I can understand her reason in being so, given Bruce was ready to commit murder and later was out being a playboy in front of her for the sake of appearances, in this movie she is judgmental towards Bruce even though she knows what he has been doing to help the city. Also, she did come off a bit flaky in the whole Bruce/Rachel/Harvey triangle. And then there is Heath Ledger. There are very few performances that I consider perfect. This is one of them. I think every choice Ledger makes in this movie, be it intentional or unintentional, works amazingly well. Like him licking his lips to keep the make up on. It just adds a creepy quality to his character, even if it is completely unintentional. There are so many ticks and quirks in Ledger’s performance that make this a phenomenal performance. I don’t see any villain performance having matches that since 2008. I think the closest I have seen prior to that is Anthony Hopkins as Hannibal Lector in Silence of the Lambs. It really is a performance that adds such a big extra edge to the movie. I love that Nolan sticks to certain details such as Bruce never actually drinking alcohol and throwing it away at the part and then Joker showing up and taking a glass and him spilling almost all of it. It gives a lot of personality to the characters. If I have any complaint about the movie, it is that Bruce does at times feel like a stationary character as he does not have as big of an arc as a Harvey Dent. And if you want, you can pick apart the holes in the series of events that happen that cause the chaos. But the drama of the film is just so intense that you forget all of that behind. I give it a 9.5/10

The Dark Knight Rises to me is the film that gets often maligned just because it isn’t TDK. And that is a crazy yardstick to compare it to. But as a movie on its own, its pretty damn awesome. TDKR is where the film truly steps away from being a version of the comics to being an Elseworld story with Batman having been absent for 8 years and then Bruce retiring and leaving Gotham at the end of the movie. But I don’t think there was any way for Nolan to close out his trilogy without it becoming an Elseworld story and it really didn’t matter because I always figured that as long as Bruce is out there, if Gotham needed him, he would come back. Its not as if there aren’t existing comic book stories of Bruce having retired or left being Batman behind. Again, there is some superb new casting. JGL ends up being surprising integral and he is terrific. Tom Hardy is awesome as Bane. He manages to provide a terrifying presence. I actually loved his voice. I love that a terrifying brute of a man has a polite, gentlemanly sounding voice. It gave him a unique personality. Marion Cotillard is pretty good as Talia/Miranda. She has an awkwardly filmed death scene but she’s good throughout the rest of the film, particularly during the reveal scene. But the casting of the movie for me was Anne Hathaway as Selina Kyle. I knew Anne Hathaway mostly from the Princess Bride movies till then even though she had gotten an academy award nomination by then. But I really didn’t envisage her as Selina Kyle but she blew me out of the water with her performance. She was seductive, yet very likable. I love the clever costume design of her goggles looking like cat ears when she puts them up. I also love Nolan’s version of the Lazarus Pit. Certainly Bruce’s climb out of the pit is one of the most compelling scenes of the movie. You truly feel the emotion. The film also has one of the best acted scenes I have scene between Michael Caine and Christian Bale in the hallway. Its the scene I remember first whenever I think about TDKR. Oscar quality acting by both in that scene. The returning cast is all terrific but Michael Caine has a few gut wrenching scenes, including this one and the scene at the funeral at the end. Oldman and Freeman continue to be stalwarts throughout the movie, I really admire that Nolan did not waste these actors and given them very substantial roles in all the movies and all these actors really respected the material to not sleep walk through the roles. I think Bale’s performance here rivals his performance in Begins. Particularly in the scenes in the Pit. You get to see a full range of emotions, from pain, to despair, to anger, to hope. Its a superb performance. The film isn’t flawless. Its just a tad too long and there is some clunky editing at times. None of the three films can be said to contain very memorable action sequences because Nolan is not known to have great action sequences in his film until more recently, but the drama in the action negates that. Like, the Bane vs Batman fight where Bane breaks Batman, isn’t the greatest action scene in terms of fight choreography, but there is a lot weight to these characters which is what makes it incredibly compelling. Same is true to an extent for the climax at the end. When Batman beats Bane, I felt a sense of satisfaction after what I had witnessed in the previous fight. Overall, I genuinely feel that I love the last act of TDKR the most out of all three films. The Batplane, Batpod, and Tumbler chase scene was thrilling and it was cool to watch all three Bat vehicles in operation. The ending montage also ends the movie on a real uplifting note for all characters, which is very satisfying. I really love the movie. A 9/10.

It has to be said that Zimmer’s score across all three films contributes enormously to these movies. All in all, these set of movies are still my favorite superhero movies and my favorite Nolan movies till date.

[k-s-morgan]

Hannigram One-Shot from ‘Ravage’

It just occured to me that I’ve never shared my ‘Ravage’ contribution online! Big thanks to @lovecrimebooks for organizing it and letting me be a part of it.

The story is a short Hannigram AU that takes place in the world of Dante’s hell. My circle was Lust. Hannibal is a literal Devil here; Will is a supernatural being that represents Desire. A story of two deadly forces, obsession, and intricate manipulation.

    Black for Death, Purple for Lust: Colors to Capture the Devil

“To this torment are condemned the carnal damned. Those for whom desire conquered reason.” — Virgil

The flickers of darkness were tightly entwined with splashes of gold, red, and white. All dominant colors seeking to represent every being that had chosen to participate in this mockery of a meeting.

The Ball of Highest Powers was an event that Hannibal had always found appallingly primitive. And yet, being the Master, the Devil, he was forced to attend each one. To watch the emergence and the disappearance of his old and new acquaintances. To reinforce his inevitable presence. 

To instill fear. Because he was no longer a Lucifer, God’s fallen angel, trapped for all eternity. He was a Hannibal, the name he had chosen himself, a rightful owner of Hell; the Devil reborn, reclaiming his agency.

Recently, God began to avoid Earth more and more, and Hannibal was only too happy to take control over it.

They knew it — these beings proudly calling themselves the Highest Powers. They knew that if they displeased him, they would be gone. Anteros, or Anthony as he preferred to call himself these days, his oldest source of annoyance, the only surviving representation of Love. Margot, a recently emerged Goddess of Grace. Mason, his supposed ally, reflecting Perversion. And many, many more.

Not everyone attended the Ball, but it was the only opportunity to become aware of how many of them continued their existence, what new reflections had come to life.   

“Will you be putting a crown on anyone today?” Anthony asked him, holding a glass of crystal liquid and watching the masses swirling in a dance. Hannibal measured him with a disinterested gaze. 

As one of the most ancient beings, Anthony was the only one who dared to engage him at least in some way, despite knowing the extent of Hannibal’s contempt to him and to what he represented.

“I haven’t decided yet,” Hannibal replied mildly. The crowns. The tradition that all of them followed faithfully. Every color had its own meaning. Anthony tended to put a red crown on one of these poor souls every year, expressing his fleeting affection. 

The only crowns Hannibal used were black ones, symbolizing instant elimination and oblivion. He had the power to destroy those who no longer amused him, which made Anthony’s boldness all the more surprising. 

“Don’t look at me,” Anthony said half-jokingly, and Hannibal’s lips twitched in distaste. 

Before he could answer, though, a strange hush fell over the hall. More and more beings went silent, staring somewhere, and involuntarily, Hannibal felt a weak pang of curiosity. 

Some creature emerged from the crowd, moving at a leisurely pace, staring at him. 

Moving to him. Or perhaps to Anthony, which was far more likely?  

But no. The blue eyes were fixed on him, and Hannibal blinked incredulously. His bewilderment changed into disbelief and then stupor when he finally noticed what this newcomer was holding. 

A crown. A purple crown. 

A crown of lust. 

Lust. Everyone knew Hannibal’s feelings toward it, the dark satisfaction he received in keeping lovers apart, separated by vast, rocky chasm in their special circle of Hell.

There was no misstep that Hannibal despised more. Other sins were delicious, deserving the most exquisite torment, poisoning even the most strong-willed people. Lust, though, this bleak, faded semblance of emotion was shared only by crippled weaklings. Hannibal readily engaged in other sins, but not in lust — never in lust. 

And this new… creature was carrying a purple crown? Heading toward him? He was. One step closer to him, then another. Then he broke into his personal space, and Hannibal remained frozen, paralyzed by a strange, unfamiliar feeling.

He had never seen this creature before. 

He would remember him. 

Blue eyes were studying him intently, framed by dark lashes. Pale face, chocolate curls, pink mouth. A classical beauty.

The being smiled at him and Hannibal’s lips parted. His breath caught in his chest, his hands grew horrifyingly clammy, and he distinctly felt his pupils getting wide, his eyes glazing over.

The scent hit him then — strange, enticing. The scent of innocence and death. Hannibal shuddered, inhaling it deeply, his nostrils flaring in attempt to get more of it. 

And then the smiling creature reached forward and put the purple crown on his head, and he still did nothing. The silence stretched, both of them staring at one another, Hannibal’s fingers twitching, aching to touch, to feel. 

The strange creature tilted his head, watching him, let out a thoughtful sound, and then turned his back to him and disappeared within the crowd.

The silence was deafening, and Hannibal was still rooted to his spot, unable to move, utterly confused by what had happened and by the fact that he was now wearing a purple crown, with no instinct to take it off. 

Conversations resumed eventually, and Anthony, who was still standing nearby, chuckled. 

“Well, that was unexpected,” he said, amused. “Did you honestly like Will, or are you already plotting his demise?”

“Will?” Hannibal echoed. 

“Will. Desire,” Anthony’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “You didn’t recognize him? He’s not exactly new. It’s just that he has never visited the Ball before. Few of us know him personally, but I thought that you, for sure—”

Hannibal stopped listening. Because while the name Will was new, he was indeed aware of Desire. The cunning, ubiquitous being that found entrance everywhere, slipping equally into the most romantic souls, enhancing their desire for affection, and into the violent ones, feeding their desire for war and destruction.

And now he seemed to slip into the Hell itself. Into Hannibal’s domain, into his very mind. Leaving him humiliated, with that purple embarrassment on his head. 

Suddenly infuriated, Hannibal tore the crown from himself and clenched it in his hand, wishing only to crush it. 

Foolish Will — to challenge the Devil himself. 

Hannibal would put an end to it, and to him.

***

The cold darkness of Hell was soothing. The shadows were whispering to him, the souls were moaning, begging, but for some reason, it brought no pleasure to him.

Restless, Hannibal moved along the line of entrapped lovers within his circle of Lust, staring into their glassy faces, the longing and thirst reflected there as they kept looking over the chasm, trying to get a glimpse of their partners. He wasn’t some weak-minded creature like them. And he certainly didn’t experience lust. Such thing was beneath him.

But the image of blue eyes and lips curled up in a smile kept haunting him, his mind greedily recalling every bit, savoring it, filling his body with strange, buzzing sensation.   

A purple lighting storm swirled around the chasm — the soul of Alana rising to see what was happening. 

Alana was one of his human lovers, one Hannibal had seduced out of amusement, one he had been driving mad with lust until she killed a man in attempt to protect him, falsely thinking that Hannibal was about to be attacked. She had died in that confrontation as well, and since there was no lover Hannibal could position her against in the circle of Lust, he had chosen to turn her into a lighting storm here, trapped between two sides of the chasm. 

Hannibal paid her no mind, but Alana whispered something, trembled, and suddenly, an image of Will appeared, huge and stretched through the entire chasm — shocking and ethereally beautiful.

Hannibal stared, a sharp rebuke freezing on his lips. 

Will, Desire, was moving slowly through some forest, his eyes focused and curious, alight with intelligence and intensity that Hannibal found breathtaking. He made a strange movement, his eyebrows rising, and then he smiled, and Hannibal was lost. 

Before he could stop himself, he materialized in a flash of smoke in the same forest, in the same place, several inches from Will.

Will stopped and strengthened slowly. Then he said without turning, “Now *this* is not the moment when I expected to encounter you.” 

“I am faintly disturbed that you expected to encounter me at all,” Hannibal replied, watching his back, his eyes narrowed. 

Finally, Will turned, and Hannibal’s breath hitched uncontrollably. His mind swam, his limbs went shaky. Desire crashed into him, enveloped every part of him, and he nearly snarled in frustration.

“Stop this,” he hissed, and Will blinked.

“Stop what?” he asked, as if genuinely confused. Clarifying would require more than he was ready to sacrifice, so Hannibal gritted his teeth and said nothing. Will tilted his head, an amused look crossing his features. 

“Did you come here for me or are you interested in artful death as much as I am?”

“Artful death,” Hannibal echoed. Now, for the first time, he sensed a familiar smell of approaching decay, and he glanced at the ground, at an arched wrist that was protruding from it. 

“Someone is killing people and burying them alive to feed the mushrooms,” Will said, also watching the ground. Hannibal would be taken aback — humanity still had the power to surprise him with the things they did, crazy as they were, but currently, he was much more interested in other matters. Specifically, in one standing before him.

“Do you get the souls quicker when they are buried alive?” Will asked, and Hannibal considered his question, surprised at the novelty of it. 

“Yes,” he said eventually. “But the difference is slight, barely worth mentioning. Why are you here? Do you entertain yourself by helping those who can be saved?” 

“No,” a frown marred Will’s forehead but somehow, it made him even more beautiful, and all thoughts left Hannibal’s head once again. “I told you. I’m not interested in life — only death captivates me. Well… now, at least.”

“This person is not dead yet.”

“But he will be,” Will shrugged. “I existed long enough to understand the beauty of it. Death is comforting. Pity not all of us have the privilege of experiencing it.”

“You will,” Hannibal told him, trying to sound calm, to hide the breathless notes in his voice. “If you keep provoking me.”

Some dark shadow flickered across Will’s face before it smoothed out, an amusing glint returning to his eyes. 

“How am I provoking you?” he wondered. 

“The only way you know how… Will. Or do you prefer to be called Desire?”

“Not in the least,” Will told him. “And I cannot deliberately affect you, no matter how hard I would try. I affect people only, slipping into their minds, evoking and enhancing their desires — for various things. Desire for love. Desire for destruction. Desire for revenge. What do you desire, Hannibal? To the extent where you would hope to blame it on me?”

Confusion and rage and something else, something heavier and much more intoxicating, swirled within him, and Hannibal crossed the distance between them in several short steps, crushing their mouths together, clenching Will’s hair in his fist and pulling at it violently. 

Will let out a surprised sound — as if he had the right to be surprised after everything he had done, after his purple crown at that ball. Then his mouth opened wider, accepting him, and Hannibal kissed him, and kissed him, and kissed him, breathing faster and faster, until he felt dizzy, until the air he didn’t even need started to be lacking, until his consciousness darkened and faded. He craved him. He needed him, desperately. 

Everything happened in a mist — him tearing Will’s clothes off, pushing him against the tree, taking his fill of him, Will’s soft moans breaking the silence, his compliance sweet and maddening. However, it all changed quite suddenly. Hannibal paused, regaining his strength, ready to take him again, but Will turned quickly and before he could say anything, he found himself pushed against the tree in return, Will’s nails piercing his skin to hold him in place, painful and sharp. 

It was madness — everything that was happening. Hannibal didn’t understand it, couldn’t understand what was running through his veins, so hot and powerful, so intoxicating that he felt drunk on it. On Will. Later, when they both fell in a boneless heap right onto the ground, in the middle of the graveyard of those still living, Hannibal continued to touch him, to breathe in his smell, to stare at him in greed and never-ending confusion. He wanted him. He wanted him still. 

Will reached out, his nails and the tips of his fingers red with Hannibal’s blood, and drew something on his arm — a small stag. 

“To remember me until you want to forget me,” he said. Hannibal stroked his neck, thoughtfully, almost kindly. 

“I am going to kill you,” he said, and Will nuzzled into his shoulder, a blissful smile touching his lips.

“I’m counting on it,” he murmured. “After all, this is why I have given you that purple crown. I expected to get a black one in return.”

Hannibal pulled away sharply, surprised and wishing to hide it. 

Who could want a black crown? Highest Powers feared death more than humans. The idea of not existing terrified them, shrank their vanity and drowned their feeling of superiority. 

Hannibal was the only one who had nothing to fear in this regard, and yet for some reason, Will’s dark words made him uneasy. He’d seen suicidal humans, held their souls, but those of the Highest Powers?

He couldn’t bear the burn of this confusion any longer. In an instant, Hannibal melted in smoke, with his last glimpse being Will, watching him with all-knowing, mysterious eyes. 

He found himself back in his least favorite circle, under rebuking and hating stares of those trapped here for the very sin he was now wearing as a coat around himself. 

Lust. Was that what it felt like? Why now, when Hannibal had given up hope on understanding and relating to it? He knew how to use lust, how to evoke it, but he had never been its target before. It was humbling — and infuriating. But still, not as bewildering as Will’s desire for a black crown.

The next days passed in brooding. Hannibal knew every corner of his domain, had his most and least favorite places, yet now, he felt restless wherever he went. The urge to see Will again, to have him, to listen to the troubling things he said was growing within him like a living being, coiling and hissing as he refused to succumb to it. 

The stag drawn with blood was still sitting on his shoulder, with Hannibal wanting to erase it but finding himself unable to. 

Maybe later. 

When his resolve finally broke and he sought Will out, he was once again sent into stupor. 

Will was in Lithuania. Near a painfully familiar grave. And he was busy arranging the bodies of some men around it.

Absolutely confounded, Hannibal found himself reaching for him, materializing just a step away, unable to believe his eyes.

“What are you doing here?” he whispered. “How do you know about this place? About her? No one does. No one was ever supposed to know.”

“Know that you have a weakness?” Will adjusted his hair, which seemed longer today, looking at Hannibal from under his lashes. The already familiar shock of desire ran through him but Hannibal was too stunned to act on it. 

Something else was stopping him, too.

Despite his flirting gestures, Will looked sad. Full of that strange, ancient sadness that was all too familiar to Hannibal, but which he had never seen on anyone else before. 

“How do you know?” Hannibal asked again, and this time, Will smiled mirthlessly. He touched the bodies he had arranged almost lovingly, moving them a little, so a grave would be directly in the center. 

“This is where the only source of light in your life has died,” he said quietly. “This is where Mischa was buried. This is where I was born.” 

When Hannibal just stared at him blankly, Will sighed. 

“You have existed for the amount of time that no other being can comprehend,” he murmured. “I shudder when I try to imagine it. Endlessness. Emptiness. Boredom. But four centuries ago, something happened. Something changed. You were playing human again, as you do whenever boredom strikes you, and you got attached to a little girl. By accident, I’m sure, because you would never willingly let yourself feel. Perhaps the whole experience was amusing to you at first, but then you started to actually feel something. Everyone would think that a human girl protected by the Devil would be coddled to death, as safe as she could possibly be. But you got distracted — another unruly soul that had to be handled, another instance of unrest. You were gone and during this time, she was murdered — and whatever light that had started to grow within you was extinguished. You found her body here and decided to bury her in this same place… and you summoned me.” 

Hannibal’s lips refused to obey. He licked them, strangely nervous, staring at Will and having no idea what to feel. 

“Summoned you?” he clarified carefully.  

“Yes,” Will looked away, glancing at Mischa’s grave again. “All Highest Beings appear to reflect emotions of large clusters of people. Some of them die by your hand and new, synonymous ones appear in their stead. They are all proud to represent the Highest Powers but they forget that they were created by humans. When similar emotions are experienced by a big number of people at once, a representative of this emotion is born — and this process is endless. In my case, though… my creator is you.”

“This is a lie,” Hannibal snapped. “I destroy. I do not create.”

Will’s lips curled in something too frightening to be called a smile. 

“Maybe,” he said. “Therefore, I am your mistake. Your single lapse of judgment. After you found Mischa’s body, you held her. And you willed the time to reverse. You willed it to return you to the past, so you could save her. You willed it to return you to the moment of your first encounter, so you could never approach her again. Of course, your wishes weren’t granted. They never are, not even when the Devil himself is asking for it. Instead, I was born here. Yet another variation of Desire… only this time, your desire. Summoned by the strength of your pleas.”  

“You are lying. I have never even seen you before that last ball!” Hannibal snarled, but the chill in his bones told him everything he needed to know. Will wasn’t lying. Will had witnessed his embarrassing descend into the most human emotions. Will had seen what Hannibal had spent centuries on trying to forget.  

“You deny my very existence,” Will tilted his head, and despite vehement words, he didn’t sound angry. There was just that same sadness in his voice, one that he carried around himself at all times, which was wrapped around him like a cloud. “I am used to it by now. Since the moment of my appearance in this graveyard, with you burying Mischa, I saw only you. But you never even glanced at me. Not once. At first, I thought I was too weak to materialize properly. That is how I tried to explain your blindness. I tried to approach you many times after that — years after years. For centuries. But no matter how hard I tried, you never saw me. And it was killing me as the connection I feel to you is overwhelming — it reduces me to a ball of clingy, desperate emotions, all of which you despise.”

Hannibal stepped away before he could stop himself, disturbed by the genuineness and warmth he could feel emanating from Will.

He didn’t know if he liked it. He had never felt… this, directed at him. Will noticed his instinctive retreat, but instead of acting hurt, he dared to laugh.  

“I live for you,” he said easily, and Hannibal stared at him, unable to comprehend how anyone could be so open, how anyone could say this to him.

Despite sugary words, Will didn’t act as if he was swooning in his presence. He hadn’t acted like that in the forest as well — he positioned himself as his equal. He had more grace than the majority of Highest Beings. 

It was impossible to understand him.

“I’ve spent all my life in the hope that you will finally see me, learning everything I could about you, becoming your shadow,” Will continued. “Others don’t touch me — it is you whom I crave, whose attention I seek, whose company I desire. But recently… I realized that I could no longer pretend. I was a mistake that you’ve made once — that’s all there is to it. Knowing that my goal was futile, I chose against continuing my existence. At that ball, for the first time, I approached you not with love and desire, but with death and lust. And you saw me. After all this time. Because even though you loved that little girl, even though your love and your desire to change the past created me, these are not the feelings that you can recognize. Mischa was an anomaly. What you do recognize is death, which you sow, and lust, the circle of which you control. Lust is the closest you can feel to affection… I think. So this was the only time when you could see me.”

“I can see you now,” words escaped by themselves, before Hannibal could stop them. A flash of surprise crossed Will’s face before he chuckled.

“Of course you can,” he said almost gently. “Because I still intend to die. You can feel it on me. And that is why I hope that you will gift me with oblivion. You are the only one who can do that — not to mention that it will be as overly dramatic as you like. Symbolic. Dying from the hand of someone who made me.” 

Hannibal’s thoughts were uncharacteristically jumbled. He opened his mouth, then snapped it shut, confused, at a loss, bewildered. Will was confounding. When he looked at him, even now, Hannibal could feel the dryness of his own mouth, the fevered hotness of his skin — lust, thick and powerful, mindlessly pushing him forward, his fingers trembling with the urge to touch, to caress, to bruise. Even this alarming revelation hadn’t changed it — he still wanted Will.

But he was also scared of him. Another new feeling, the flavor of which Hannibal tasted with interest, wondering if this was what others felt in his presence.

There was something else that bothered him, so, licking his dry lips, Hannibal asked, “You said you approached me with death and lust. Does it mean that your previous feelings no longer exist?”

“Nothing and no one can change them,” Will replied, still serene, still smiling. “You’ve made me. I will be always attracted to you — even I can’t fight it. But I am not a mindless bundle of desire. Before, having you see me, talk to me, was a dream. My most cherished fantasy. Once I decided to disappear, death became my biggest wish. When I managed to subdue my brighter feelings for you and pushed death and something as primal as lust to the front, you saw me — but even then, you refused to give me what I want. I didn’t get my black crown. Even after the forest, you still haven’t granted my wish. I don’t understand why — you have executed others for much, much less. Coming to Mischa was my last idea. Everything started here — it would be prudent if everything came to an end in this same place. Don’t you agree?”

Hannibal touched him, then, tracing the contour of his face, moving to his lips. Will closed his eyes, shuddering, tilting his head in such a sensual way that for a second, Hannibal’s vision went black with absurd, maddening desire. 

“Wasting centuries over me,” he whispered. “How foolish.”

Will opened his eyes, frowning, but when he wanted to move away, Hannibal tightened his grip on him.

“I will grant your wish,” he promised. “But not now.” 

Will looked at him expressionlessly. Hannibal was the one to step away, and his eyes lingered on Will for quite a while before he dissipated in the darkness.

He spent the next days lost in thoughts. He would kill Will — that was undeniable. He couldn’t tolerate the existence of someone who knew him from such a side, someone who dared to feel emotions to him that Hannibal despised. 

But something was stopping him, making him delay that inevitable moment. There was something irresistible in realization that he was the one to create Will, that he had his very own Highest Being — unique, not like the others. Beautiful and tragic and deadly. Will had quite a list of souls he had been playing with. He wasn’t simply seducing people’s minds — he was driving them insane, whispering and poisoning them once they were sleeping, making them want things they would never dare to want. Hannibal checked, and in all his time, he had never seen such a vicious and cunning version of Desire. 

Secretly, he wondered if Desire was even the right name for Will. Considering how tightly it was interconnected with lust, it formed a deadly combination that affected even him. 

Because he wanted him. Was aching for him. His madness was intensifying, urging him to locate Will and to have him again, whether he wanted it or not. Hannibal prepared a black crown — stunning and regal, fitting for his creation, but he still struggled with making a decision. He continued to think. To wonder. His thoughts came to a halt when he suddenly felt a strange, vague whisper of alarm. Hannibal narrowed his eyes, listening attentively, frowning when the stag Will had drawn on him, one that Hannibal couldn’t force himself to remove, heated abruptly, as if coming to life. 

‘At this point, nothing would actually surprise me,’ Hannibal thought, but before he could look at the picture on his arm, another pang of alarm pierced him — this one much stronger. Hannibal tensed for a second, and his lips curled in a snarl when he realized that someone had entered Hell — someone who had no place here. 

His kingdom was being… invaded? Who could possibly be as foolish as to…

The wall glimmered under his glare, its shape softening to a well of images. Hannibal quickly found the circle where the intruder was — Lust, and he wanted to scoff — but stopped as he saw the whole picture. 

That same rocky chasm. And Will, standing on its edge, with his back to it, looking directly at Hannibal — as if he knew where he was, as if he knew where to look. His lips began to move and Hannibal stared at them, reading the words they formed.

‘Thank you for not removing the stag. I wasn’t sure you would keep it. My entrance to Hell… the last piece of my plan. It’s true, only you have the power to kill the Highest Beings, but the place where you reign has the same ability. I know you well — too well, perhaps. Such a curious creature like you wouldn’t be able to make a decision, torn between wanting to keep me and wanting to destroy me — wanting to toy with me. So, I will make that choice for you. Good-bye… Hannibal.’

Hannibal’s eyes widened when he saw Will take that last, small step — and disappear within the chasm.    

“No!” he cried before he could stop himself, suddenly, unexpectedly terrified. He wasn’t thinking as he threw himself into the pile of smoke, disappearing and reappearing in the middle of the chasm, thinking in forgotten, suffocating despair, ‘It’s not too late, it can’t be too late, it can’t…’   

It seemed like even in his unexplainable panic, he had managed to calculate the distance correctly — a second later Will landed right into his waiting arms, looking calm, as if he hadn’t been one step from death.  

Hannibal clutched him with awful, bewildering tenderness, burying his face in his dark, curly hair, inhaling its scent deeply. 

“You are mine,” he murmured, not fully understand his own words. “I created you, so you belong to me.” 

He was drowning in this — this confusing affection, these warmth and greediness and possessiveness he had never felt before, didn’t know what to do with. 

Now that he was seeing Will, he wasn’t sure he could stop. 

Mindlessly, he kissed Will’s temple, then his face, his neck, still holding him, trembling with desire to tear into him, to leave him a shaking, bleeding mess — and then to tend to his wounds, to lick them clean and start everything over again. 

One who had witnessed his emotional downfall. One who existed solely for him. Who wasn’t scared of him. One who… understood him?

“You are mine,” he said again, leaned back and froze, seeing a victorious, malicious smile on Will’s face. However, it disappeared quickly, and Hannibal was back to cradling him, feeling strangely, unexplainably complete. 

The violet lighting storm swirled around them — Alana making her presence known, but Hannibal didn’t pay her any mind. His eyes were glued to one specific being in his arms, one that he didn’t intend to let go, even if he had no idea what to do with him.

Hannibal kissed him again, following a foreign, heated impulse. As he continued to shower Will’s flawless skin with kisses, he heard a soft whisper, “What about my crown, Hannibal?” 

“You cannot rule Hell with me. Why would I give you a crown? Even I don’t wear one,” Hannibal retorted, too distracted to look up.

He heard a satisfied chuckle, and then the violet storm ensnared them both, carrying them back to the surface.   

“Mine,” Will said, his voice frightening in its triumphant deadliness. Hannibal didn’t understand what he meant, but at the moment, he didn’t care.

He would think about it later, when this haze was over.

If it would ever be over.        

[questionablygourmet]

I think it's possible that the answer to "Did Will know what he was doing to Chilton" is somewhere in between yes and no - a space that Will occupies often, a space we see Bedelia in as well. You're 100% right that no one can blame him for Dolarhyde's actions - that's completely on Dolarhyde. But it's interesting to think of the parallels between Bedelia and Dimmond, and Will and Chilton, and the differences in Bedelia and Will's reactions.

Anyway, this is just to say, I love your meta so much.

filler text because tumblr’s broken in half right now

more filler text

good god really, tumblr?  more filler text

(Thank you!  :) )

There are definitely some interesting parallels to be drawn with Bedelia and Dimmond, and I enjoy the whole thing as an exploration of character agency, and as I mentioned in my last post, responsibility/culpability with regard to events!  

And I think what you say about Will in that liminal space between yes and no is very likely to be accurate to how he feels about it - that’s certainly my takeaway from his conversation with Bedelia (and to a lesser extent, the one with Hannibal).  Compare to the break up scene from Digestivo, actually, and his implication to Hannibal in TWOTL that he was explicitly manipulating Hannibal to turn himself in, there - it’s another case where I really don’t think it’s reasonable to say Will knew exactly how Hannibal would respond to his rejection ahead of time, but that he probably was less than super surprised at how events played out, like with Chilton.  And that can feel like making the thing happen, especially when one’s name is Will Graham.  

The issue I still have, though, with the phrase “what he was doing to Chilton,” is that the whole “you put your hand on me like a pet” thing is 100% post-hoc rationalization.  Dolarhyde himself never addresses it at all.  Literally the only “evidence” we have for Will’s hand on Chilton’s shoulder even affecting what Dolarhyde chooses to do is Chilton, Bedelia, and Hannibal’s interpretations after the fact (which again, all are swimming in ulterior motive).  "Let’s bait us an incredibly dangerous serial killer” was explicitly the purpose of the article in the first place; maybe Chilton was just the more convenient target (Will does mention, “Well, I had the SWAT team”).  Or maybe Dolarhyde looked at his face and went “wow, fuck that guy in particular.”  We don’t actually know.  

So again, while it’s very interesting and on-brand for the show to have some characters taking that and trying to pin the responsibility on Will, I think the audience should be taking those interpretations with a rather large chunk of salt!

[cookiedoughmeagain]

Haven DVD Commentaries - 5.07: Nowhere Man

Commentary with Brian Millikin (writer for the episode) and Nick Parker (writer of the companion episode 5.08).

I love these two and their commentaries so much because they talk a LOT and they have many things to say. Which is awesome, if sometimes hard to capture in text, so this is a mixture of direct quotes and paraphrasing.[My comments in square brackets]

BM: It’s kind of a two-parter, these two episodes, maybe a little bit less than some of our other two-parters of the season. That was something we set out to do.

NP: Yeah, not to the same extent as 5.05 and 5.06, but there is a lot - the Trouble carries on through both episodes, and that was an edict we had going into the season.

BM: We really wanted there to be a hard ending to a couple stories in this episode, and in the next one. So, Audrey gets to a place at the end of this one, and so do Mara and Duke, and everyone else. And this is the first episode of the season where we have Audrey Parker back. I was excited to do this because last season I wrote the episode just like it - ‘The New Girl’ - it was one of my favourite ones I did. And it seemed like all episode long it was Lexie who had come out of the Barn, but in reality it was actually Audrey. But it was fun because it was kind of like a new pilot. And then this one is not like a pilot, it was much different because Audrey had been around - even though she wasn’t in control of her body she was there to witness what Mara was doing. Which was something I think we were really attracted to …

NP: I agree

BM: … the idea that she feels a certain culpability or responsibility because she was in the back seat watching what Mara was doing.

NP: She was there, inside.

BM: Yeah and it’s a stark contrast to what we’ve done before.

BM: So this scene [the opening scene with Audrey Nathan and Duke on the Rouge] we talked about all these different versions of starting right on the heels of the previous episode. As it is I think it’s maybe an hour later, two hours later. Which is a little bit weird if you think about it. It means that episode 7 and 8 really take place within …

NP: 5, 6, 7 and 8 all take place within about 12 hours.

BM: This entire season takes place over the course of about 3 days.

NP: Yep. And there were also several different versions of this opening scene where they’re discussing the split and what to do with Mara, and I remember one which was pretty interesting where we talked about it just being Nathan and Audrey having this conversation on their own, and Duke being separate from it.

BM: Yeah, but we kind of wanted it to be the three amigos here. And Emily did a great job of playing the, almost PTSD that she has a little bit; she’s been through hell. And we had a version of this too where a lot of the scene was about them testing to make sure that she was really Audrey. But that just felt kind of unnecessary; first of all we knew that she was really Audrey, and we felt like the audience would too. So we just flew past it and assumed that she is. And the most important thing for us was that they don’t know what happened at the end of the last episode, they’re just winging it.

[As Duke goes to see Mara in the hold] NP: I love that Duke just has basically a prison cell in his boat, like always ready to go.

BM: It’s the biggest hold of a boat I’ve ever seen. I think it’s wider than the boat itself, the actual boat, but it looks great.

NP: The hold of his boat is bigger than his bedroom.

BM: But I love the set, and more than that, I love the two of them in here. Remember from the very first day of the season we always knew we were going to get to this point right here; episode 7, half way through with Audrey and Mara split. And we kept it to something of a surprise, and I think a lot of people thought it was just going to be Mara all season long and then maybe in the season finale it would be Audrey, or that at some point maybe Audrey would claim her body back. But we had always wanted to have both; to have our cake and eat it too. And we just thought it was more interesting for the story that way.

NP: And I think we decided to develop it even more and push it even further because Emily is so, so good as Mara.

BM: Absolutely.

NP: We were like; we’re going to give her as much screen time as we can.

BM: I know we all expected her to be good as Mara - I mean she’s always great as Audrey, and she really brings something to Sarah and Lexie. So we expected her to be good - but I think she was even better than we had anticipated. We love her as Mara.

NP: Yeah, you can just see her having fun in the role. She’s enjoying getting to stretch her legs a little bit, and it shows.

BM: I think the other actors had fun with it too; enjoying playing off of her as Mara. I mean, how many times have Eric Balfour and Emily Rose been in the same room together, and now they’re in the same room together, but it’s not Audrey. It’s someone else entirely. In fact she’s closer to Hannibal Lecter than anything else. That was sort of the impetus for all this stuff with her in the hold of the boat; yes it’s easier to shoot [all in the one set], but alse we thought it was dramatically interesting to see what they would do with it. It makes sense to keep Mara prisoner, at least for now just to figure out what to do next, and then it’s like well; this is great, we’ve got Mara being held in prison on Duke’s boat and Duke has now become her jailer. And that interaction between the two of them gave us so much.

NP: Yeah and particularly with what they’re discussing in this scene with the unknowing of what the split means and how it works, whether Audrey is connected to Mara. Because it’s all uncharted territory.

BM: She said it right there [as Duke’s leaving]. That was the thing that was most interesting to me about it, was the idea that she’s a prisoner, but she is actually in control. Or at least that’s what she says; she claims to be holding all the cards and to know what’s going on. And whether she does or not doesn’t really matter, because they definitely don’t. And she might. So that power interplay was something that we haven’t been able to do in the show before, and when you get to the fifth season of a show I think you’re just looking for these interesting new things you can try.

NP: And because we’re in the fifth season now I think we get to live with the characters a lot more.

BM: Sure.

[As we see Audrey and Nathan in bed together] NP: This is probably a lot of fans favourite scene. We don’t get to see these two actually be together that much. Stuff’s always so crazy in Haven that they never really get to just be together in bed and be together as a couple.

BM: No, and it’s sad because here we’ve got an actual tender scene between Nathan and Audrey and guess what - work calls. Because it just does.

NP: Every time.

BM: They don’t get a lot of time to just hang out and be with each other.

NP: I like that line; “Case Face”.

BM: I think I took that from the fact that we always talk, here and on other shows too, about having Writer Face. When you’re off on script or an outline or working on an episode. You know, you still come in to have lunch with the other writers, or you’re still in the hallways and at the coffee machine, but you’re not really there.

NP: You’re basically a phantom.

BM: With this distant look in your eyes as you try to figure out … how are they going to get out of it in act four if they don’t have a gun … or whatever. We always call it Writer Face, so Case Face was from that. I think I ripped off, everybody.

NP: Yeah. And that’s fine. That’s what good writers do, right?

BM: But the other important thing in this scene - there were some versions where we had it in that first scene but that just felt like too much  - is Nathan revealing that he can’t feel her any more. Which leads him to believe (correctly) that she is no longer the same; she’s not immune to the Troubles any more. Something is different about her. And it’s such a big deal that we decided, I think correctly, to put it in this scene between the two of them. Because it’s big deal obviously, for the two of them. At the same time, he says it doesn’t matter to him and I think we all believed that. You know, what would it be like if when he realised he couldn’t feel her he wasn’t in love with her any more?

NP: Yeah, that was something we talked about a lot.

BM: As someone who can’t feel anyone- yes he could feel her and that might have been one of the things that maybe got him started

NP: Yeah.

BM: But it’s certainly not where he is now. Not any more.

NP: Yeah.

BM: And I think maybe it spoke highly of their relationship that he believes it doesn’t really matter. Although I do think that it matters to her.

NP: Of coure.

BM: But maybe less to him. And he’s also just got her back. I don’t think there’s any version where he wouldn’t have wanted to be with her anymore just because he couldn’t feel her.

NP: No, I agree. But this lack of immunity after living with it for so long, now finding out that she isn’t, it throws her off her game which I think is an interesting dynamic in this episode. She has to live in that reality. And he’s telling her it’s all fine, that they’re going to make it. But you can see her having some self doubt.

BM: Absolutely. And we liked the emotion of that and having to grapple with that because it was a way for them to express some of the … I guess the best word for it is still PTSD of what they’ve gone through with the Mara situation. What they’re still going through. Without it being all about that. It was a microcosm of the fact that they’re sort of pawns in a larger game that they’re not in control of necessarily.

NP: Yep. Oh there’s Kirsty.

BM: Yes, Kirsty Hinchcliffe, Lucas Bryant’s wife.

NP: Officer Rebecca Rafferty.

BM: Yeah. We wanted to put her in this scene because we very much wanted her to be in the next scene she shows up in. And she’s also super-useful here, along with this townperson they meet, in establishing that people aren’t necessarily warm to the idea of Audrey being back. After what they’ve been through with Mara. Mara killed a bunch of people, she was running around causing all kinds of problems, and for the people who are in the know (like Rafferty) even they are probably a little reluctant to necessarily throw their arms around Audrey and trust her again.

NP: Yeah and I think that’s something we’ve got to explore in the second half of season five, is that, so much crazy stuff happens in Haven, all the time. So what do people know and who knows what? We talk about it in the room all the time but it’s not fully explored, because we do so much with our characters. And it is something we got to do a little bit more [5b] because things got so crazy, is how people actually react to it and how do they talk to our characters about it.

BM: Yeah, it was kind of a point of emphasis coming into the season for Matt McGuinness and Gabrielle Stanton, our show runners, was to live in the reality just a little bit more and show how people would really react to some of this stuff. And having a lot of these two-parter episodes where the case of the week extends into the next episode, which allows us just a little bit more real estate to do that kind of thing.

NP: Yeah, just to live in it. This is the most lively farmers’ market.

BM: Absolutely. Not the first time we’ve seen this farmers’ market. We were here in episode, er, four of the first season; Consumed.

NP: Oh yeah. It is so crowded there.

[As Nathan talks to Reggies] BM: Ah, this is Dylan Taylor as Reggie. And we totally stole the name from True Detective which had aired a few months before we shot this episode.

NP: We are huge fans of True Detective.

BM: And we just needed to give some flavour, and a voice to the character, and so we thought, let’s write him a bit like Reggie Ledoux.

[Having never watched True Detective, I looked Reggie Ledoux up; the fandom.com wiki describes him as a “brutal and vile drug dealer” that manufactures meth for a violent criminal biker gang, and an “accomplice and right-hand man” of a serial-killer. Yikes.]

BM: So we called him Reggie and had always intended on changing it but the name had this kind of blue-collar gritty quality and that’s who the character was. Enough that we wrote in that he has a bit of a Southern drawl, or this back-water drawl.

NP: I think back water. He brought the Southern to it, it was nice.

BM: And he really went for it and it totally worked. But we got a call from set on the first day he was there - he’s a great actor, he’s done a load of stuff, he didn’t audition, he didn’t have to, we were lucky to get him - so he shows up and he’s doing this accent and we get a call from the Producer on set. And she’s saying; I don’t know if we have a problem, but Dylan is doing an accent. And we said; Well check the script, it’s in there, it’s going to be great. And we wound up really enjoying his performance, he’s fantastic. Our showrunner Matt, was upset that he meets an untimely end in the next episode because he wanted us to bring Reggie back. He told us not to kill him but we’d already shot that scene where he dies.

NP: Matt wanted Reggie to be the new Guard back guy. Which is a role we’ve kind of rolled from character to character for production reasons in a lot of ways. But Reggie was so good that we were wondering how we could have him come back and be the Guard bad guy.

[The scene where Nathan gets hit by the Trouble] BM: So something bad is about to happen to Nathan. Which was always the plan for the episode; this has actually been in the works for a long time. We referred to this story as Ghost Nathan. Going back to the first season we had a bank of episodes [that we’d like to do]. And a lot of them were ones that we could never produce, but one of them was a ghost one where we figured we could have someone walking through walls and stuff. And I - maybe it’s because of my unabashed love for the movie Ghost - but I always thought we could do a Ghost Nathan episode. And we never had anything we could do with it. It was one of those things you’d pull it out if it worked for the episode. And it did work for this one. Because we needed the Trouble in this episode to do a few things for us. First of all it works because Lucas Bryant is great at selling the ghost of it all. He’s standing in this room with Kirsty, his wife, and she has to ignore him and he has to sell it - they both do. The best special effect in the episode is not people walking through walls or him sticking his hand through the phone, the best effect is the performance. And it’s not an easy thing; everyone ignoring him and him acting like they can’t see him.

NP: Well yeah and in that scene it was just him there and her ignoring him the entire time, but there’s several scenes where we had to shoot two versions; one with Lucas and one without, and then patch them together.

BM: Yeah even this scene [Duke and Audrey looking at Nathan’s shadow on the floor] there are a couple of wide shots where Nathan’s not in it. WhichI think our producers were not super-happy about because it definitely added to the load that we had to shoot. But Audrey and Nathan have been separated for, what six episodes this season, and they’ve just got back together again. And there was a version where we could have gone with a story where they were the power team back together again. But we liked the idea of a bit of a role reversal. That she would be thrust into this position of trying to get him back. And he’s trying to get back to her. And what that did for their characters and for so many other story lines, particularly the other big thing that we had to deal with in this episode that she’s not immune to the Troubles. So we wanted to go with a Trouble that really played to that. So the idea that she can’t see him now, when any other episode before this one she would have been able to. She would have been able to see him if she was immune and it would have blown up the episode. So this was the perfect time to do it, in an episode where, for the first time ever, Audrey is not immune to the Troubles.

NP: And an important detail is that right now, they don’t know what this Trouble is, so she doesn’t know where he is. The supposition is that he’s dead, and we’ve had dead Nathan before but always found ways to bring him back. But because of the way this Trouble works there’s no body, no nothing, so they have no way to bring him back.

BM: And that scene we just saw [Duke and Audrey finding Nathan’s shadow on the floor] there were versions of it that went a lot further in that direction. Where Duke was basically talking about the idea that it looks like Nathan is dead.

NP: Yeah, he’s gone.

BM: And Audrey was fighting back against him. And it was really, really heavy. And we eventually pulled back on it, I think correctly, because Matt and Gab felt that it was just too sad. We did still play with it a little with Duke, he’s still much closer than Audrey is to believing that the worst has happened. And that makes sense because Duke is not quite as romantic, he’s a little bit more of a realist.

NP: Yep.

BM: And he’s already been through a bunch of bad shit already. And he’s beginning to come around to the idea that he’s just lost Nathan; another punch in the series of punches he’s been taking. But Audrey clings a little bit longer. We wanted her to escalate her anger over the course of the episode as she’s starting to consider that it could be maybe legit. But we definitely pulled back on the two of them holding each other and mourning his loss. Just yet.

NP: Yeah, it will grow.

BM: So the other thing we needed to do in this episode, again talking about the realism of it all, is that we felt like it couldn’t be easy for Audrey to be Audrey again, not with everything that Mara had done. And the best way for us to show that was to have actually the Guard be the main threat in this episode. The case of the week is sort of an issue, but the real threat in this episode ends up being, what is the Guard going to do not understanding the Mara/Audrey situation of it all.

NP: Yeah and just having the Guard as the threat is something we talked about for so long at different times. And this was a good way of escalating it at the right time, with Mara having been the threat that she was for so long, and Dwight being out of town. We did not have the wonderful Adam Copeland for these two episodes, so he’s gone and the Guard is doing their own thing in his absence.

BM: Yeah it wasn’t our choice, really, to have no Adam Copeland in this episode. It was just by his schedule, due to his contract, we were just not going to have him for this episode or the next one. So we kind of got stuck with no Adam, but it wound up really working for the story because I don’t think that the Guard threat could have played as well, with them going off the handle, with him around. So it actually wound up being a story that works because Adam’s gone. It’s almost about the fact that he is gone.

NP: This actor is great, who plays Glen.

BM: Yes, his name is Dylan Trowbridge.

NP: Glen named after Glen Holler/Holland [not sure of the spelling]

BM: Our friend Glen. His last name, Andros, is a Stephen King reference. Nick Andros was the deaf character from The Stand.

NP: Perfect. Got to work in those Stephen King references.

[As Audrey arrives at the farmers’ market] BM: Now, Amy the photographer who Audrey is about to talk to is, the Troubled person of the episode. So we had to plant her in the background when we were here a while ago, and now she’s here too. Because we needed the logic to work in the background. And that’s why there’s also some dialogue here about how she had gone home because the Trouble works when she prints out the photo, when she makes the photo final, the way a painter would finish a painting or whatever. So we had established that she had not been here all day but had gone home and printed some of the photos. She must have liked the looks of Nathan. And then here we have Audrey tell her to send her some pictures and she’s got the hard copies in the next episode. So we imagine that right now, Amy is going home, printing out all the photos she has of Reggie. But maybe her printer is out of ink,

NP: Or it takes her a while to get home.

BM: And then she prints it out of course, the second that Audrey has Reggie at gunpoint and so he disappears.

[As Nathan walks up to the crying woman in the graveyard] NP: Oh remember the fun we had coming up with what this woman is going to say?

BM: Oh my gosh yes. We had always intended there to be a bit of a horror movie scare there. Totally helped by the fact that Rob Lieberman, our director for this episode and the next (as well as other Haven episodes) has a ton of experience in that department. He did Fire In The Sky, super-scary movie. And he’s great. So he totally leaned into it. You can even see here [where Nathan’s talking to the ‘ghosts’] all these interesting canted angles and stuff it just feels a little bit moodier and scarier than it otherwise could. Because if you really look at it, it’s a beautiful day. It would have been great if this was nighttime but we couldn’t shoot any of these scenes at night.

NP: And Chris Masterson does a great job here as Morgan, does an incredible job as the ghost guide, the greeting committe, giving Nathan the rundown on how everything operates. And functionally for the logic of the story it’s really important because of what he’s saying about crossing over as your residual self image. Which is stuff that plays to important plot points later in this episode and the next one.

BM: Especially in your episode. This scene was exposition heavy, it was kind of a bear trying to make it as conversational as possible.

NP: But Chris sells it.

BM: He totally does. But yeah a lot of the stuff that Morgan talks about here about the theories of how it works is his understanding, but his understanding is not correct. But it’s what we have to go with for the time being.

NP: Yeah everything he says is true from his point of view, but his understanding is not correct.

BM: Yeah we were lucky to get Chris for this episode. We had his brother, Danny Masterson, last season in your episode 411. He was one of the two Darkside Seekers. The other Darkside Seeker, Kris Lemche, is about to appear in the next episode.

[As we flash back to Nathan talking to Garland’s ghost] BM: Ooh the flashback. In the exact same cemetery. I always wonder why that says Rufus P. Parker there [on the gravestone between Nathan and Garland]. The Parker kind of threw me off.

[Personally I think it says Barker, but it’s an interesting comment anyway:)]

BM: But we’ve got a bunch of flashbacks, little quick ones like that over the course of the season. And it was sort of by design, not knowing, and still not knowing frankly, whether this would be the last season of the show or not. So just in case it was, we sort of wanted to hearken back to previous seasons before and try to connect things a little bit better. And even just seeing what our characters looked like a couple of years ago has a little bit of an emotional whallop to it.

[As Nathan watches Duke frustratedly flicking through the Crocker journal] BM: So we’re coming up on the twist here at the end of this third act that I used to sell the episode. Because the way that it works on our show, and most shows, is that you’ve got the roadmap of the season (the big things that need to happen), this one we knew this was the first one with Audrey and Mara split, and Mara in the hold of the boat. And we didn’t know a ton else about what it was going to be. We knew that we were going to start pushing Mara and Duke’s relationship as they get to know each other and see eye to eye a little bit more, and then in episode 8 a little bit more, and in episode 9 a little bit more. But that was kind of it.

NP: Episodes 7 and 8 to a large extent were about finishing up the story lines from the first half of the season, and this was platforming for everything that was going to happen in the back end.

BM: So we knew that we needed a big Trouble that would take up these two episodes, and we needed it to help us tell some stories about our characters. But the way that we sold this one with the ghost of it all was basically that - from the get-go from pitching it to our show runners and everybody - was that at the half way point of the episode, ghost!Nathan and Duke are in here and they’re talking to Mara, and Duke leaves, and then she reveals that she can see Nathan. And that was the turning point of the episode. If we’ve done our jobs well enough maybe not everyone saw it coming, I think that a good amount of people probably did see it coming. But it helped us in a lot of ways, it really turned the screws on the Mara story really quickly.

NP: Yep.

BM: Now she’s even more in control because she’s the only person who can see Nathan. And that tells us that Nathan’s not really dead of course. And it tells Nathan that he’s the victim of a Trouble. But it also helped us tell a story about the fact that Mara’s immune to the Troubles and Audrey is not. Which was the big thing that we needed to tackle. And what better way to do it than the fact that Audrey can’t see Nathan and the only person who can, is Mara.

NP: That’s it.

BM: So once we had that as the middle twist of the episode, everyone was on board. There was no going back then.

NP: And the back half of that is something maybe we’ll talk about more in 508 but, because Mara is immune and can see him, how does Audrey use her lack of immunity to her benefit.

BM: Absolutely. The end point of this episode is really about Audrey bottoming out a little bit. We wanted to get her to a place where she kind of has to confess that she is not who she once was, and she maybe can’t do this anymore because she’s lost her, superpower (for lack of a better term). And then the next episode is where she gets her groove back to some extent, and realises that it’s not about her immunity, it’s about whatever she does with whatever she has at her disposal. And she ends up using her lack of immunity to her advantage. So this episode was sort of the Empire Strikes Back, then you’ve got the Return of the Jedi.

NP *sounding doubtful* Well…

BM: Don’t think about it.

NP: Oh there’s Reggie . And I love the other backup Guard member who looks very much like Jordan McKee from previous seasons.

BM: She looks just like her.

[Me: *squints doubtfully at the screen*]

BM: Her name is Justine [I can’t catch the surname]. She has worked on the show in the past and she’s great. She had some lines at some point in time. And a name, I feel like her characters’ name was Riley. And then it ended getting cut because there was just too much going on in the episode and too many people. I should also say while we’re talking about the Guard, that Mitchell, who is coming back to our show, was in episodes three and four. He was a bit of a late addition to those; we were trying to bring back as a returning Guardsman, the guy from episode 403, Bad Blood, but he wasn’t available. So we created a new Guardsman, as Mitchell. And then we brought him back for this episode which was great.

NP: We just needed to have someone with some animosity towards Nathan and the police department who was a more militant member of the Guard.

BM: Absolutely. And we actually tried to bring Mitchell back a couple episodes from now and then he wasn’t available. So we had to go with another person, so it was a bit of a case of musical chairs of Guard members.

[Nathan talking to the two ‘ghosts’ in the graveyard] NP: And Nathan here is revealing the truth.

BM: Yeah. It’s kind of classic. We had been a little bit worried that in the previous acts there was really just that one stretch of 10 minutes where Nathan thinks he’s dead. And no one wanted him to lose his drive, because he should always be trying to figure out what’s going on. But now that he knows that he’s the victim of a Trouble, he’s in Nathan mode. And is going to do whatever he can.

NP: He’s got Case Face now.

BM: Absolutely. But again a lot of this and Morgan’s attitude on hearing what Nathan has to say, pays off more in the next episode. It’s laying the groundwork for the fact that maybe not everyone wants to go back. It’s a little of the insitutionalised thing; a bit of a Shawshank Redemtion thing here that if you get used to living this way maybe you don’t want to go back. Although as we’ll discover in 508, Morgan has a pretty good reason for not wanting to go back.

NP: A very good, if selfish, reason.

BM: Yeah, but you can’t blame him. And that’s what you’re looking for in your motivation for a bad guy. Where when you find out why they’re doing what they’re doing you feel like you’d probably do the same thing.

[As Audrey is pointing her gun at Reggie] BM: Reggie here is a bit lighter on motivation. He’s just a bad guy. But you don’t really stop to think about it because Dylan is so good.

NP: He just sells it.

BM: But even here, his little speech here was important to me to get his POV across a little bit. Which, from his stand point, Audrey has caused all of this to happen, which she did. And then she was Mara, and now she says she’s Audrey but she can’t be trusted; bad things are happening. So why should he listen to her? I put myself in Reggie’s shoes and realised that if the show was about the Guard, Audrey and Nathan would be the bad guys.

NP: Yeah. I also love the aspect of that scene there where Reggie is down on his knees at the mercy of Audrey, much like in his final scene in True Detective, on his knees at the mercy of someone there.

BM: Yeah, totally ripped that off too.

NP: I think there was an earlier version of the script where Nathan runs out of the van there and it drives through him.

*Both being amused at the intense level of concentration on Nathan’s face as he watches Bishop tap the security code into the door*

BM: What you don’t see, is that you have to imagine that in his head for the rest of this scene Nathan is just thinking to himself like; 1283. 1283. Gotta remember the code. 1283. That is why we had it be a four-digit code because if it was six it would be harder to remember. But I love the look of Guard HQ here. Remember Rob Lieberman was totally responsible for it. He mentioned to us when we were on the phone to us, he said; I’m going out on a limb here but I’m thinking like the movie Children of Men. And we were both like; Could not love Children of Men more, please do it.

NP: Such a moody and gritty feel.

BM: But if you recognise a bit of the layout and architecture of the hallway we just saw and the long room here [where Mitchell has Audrey tied to a chair in front of the desk that Bishop’s Trouble disintergrates], this is actually the same building that we used the interior of for the Barn at the end of season three and briefly in season four. I think this is the second floor of that building. The first floor is painted all white, every inch of it, because it was the Barn. And up here it’s the exact same layout but now it’s Guard HQ.

BM: Now poor Bishop.

NP: He has got a rough, rough Trouble

BM: So we imagined that he would have to be one of these people wearing gloves, and that they would have to be these chemical resistant ones because he’s got this acid touch. So then it’s like well he’s going to look silly wearing these giant gloves. Because those gloves are real, they can actually protect against any sort of corrosive acid. So we figured he should be wearing coveralls as well so it kind of matches, so it seems like he’s an industrial type guy. But the actor must have been burning alive because this was the middle of summer in Nova Scotia which means that it was about 90 degrees.

[Nathan talking to Mara again in the hold] BM: So this scene here, in a way is the climax of the episode. At least it was for me. This is where the shit hits the fan. Nathan comes to her with his plan for her to tell Duke what’s happening to Audrey. She says no, and then it’s about getting her to help. And then it all just fell into place; it seemed like the right story to tell about Audrey and Mara. And to be evolving what is Mara’s relationship to them now that she is her own person. Because she’s only going to do what’s in her best interest. And she keeps holding this card over their heads as to whether she’s connected or not. And we went into this season knowing that they weren’t connected, knowing that hurting Mara wasn’t going to hurt Audrey (unlike the thing with William) but that question comprises the entirety of this episode. Because we realised the characters don’t know that. So a lot of this is Duke trying to figure out whether she is or not. And Mara withholding her knowledge. So then we knew that the last beat in this episode would be Mara revealing the truth. Because at that point she doesn’t need them to wonder whether she’s connected or not because she’s got something better, which is that now she knows they need her to help Nathan.

NP: Well and that’s always what her bargaining chip is, that she can’t threaten them with anything, it’s all about the knowledge she possesses.

BM: And the actors all did a great job with this scene. There are takes where Nathan’s there, and when he’s not. But it all really worked. And she is just the right amount of funny in this scene.

NP: And cruel.

BM: Because she’s still enjoying messing with them, and it worked out really well. It really worked out really well. And here, what Eric had to play is realising that Nathan is alive again, but also realising that Audrey’s in Trouble. It’s not as easy as the three of them make it look. But it’s amazing because we have our three leads, they’re back in the same room together, they do this every day for years. But now, she’s the bad guy, Nathan’s a ghost, and Eric has no idea what’s going on. So I was really excited about being able to write a scene - and this is a three or four page scene - with all them in the room together but everything is different from how it usually is.

NP: Yeah, and this was one of the ones that had to be shot twice.

BM: And the other story that we’re telling in this episode is Audrey’s relationship to the town, and them not trusting her, is she lying about who she is, and all this doubt that everyone would have about her, after having lived through the tyranny of Mara for a while. And so the thing that we wanted to do in this scene [as Bishop is dissolving the desk] is kind of to some extent close that story off. It still comes up a bunch of times throughout the season, but she does something here, or could do something here, that proves to them that she is Audrey. She has a kind of I Am Sparticus Moment; I am Audrey Parker. It seemed a little cheesy in the script but Emily totally sells it. And that I Am Audrey Parker moment was an important one for us.

NP: Absolutely.

BM: We started this episode with her kind of in this fetal position trying to grapple with what she is now, finding she’s not immune, what is her identity now. So it felt important to us that she get to a different place by the next episode.

NP: Well yeah because there’s a sense in which her superpower is immunity to the Troubles, but really, on an emotional level, her superpower is her empathy for everybody and understanding what they’re going through. So she’s like; I totally get why you did what you did, so you’re going to be OK. Forgiveness is her thing.

BM: I never noticed that Duke brings Mara a can of food there. That wasn’t in the script. I’ve seen this episode a bunch of times and I never noticed that before, but it makes sense.

[As Mara is cutting her wrist with the chains] BM: We had a bit of an issue here because we knew that we wanted her to cut herself to prove that her and Audrey aren’t connected, but it was only when we were about to start shooting we realised; how is she going to cut herself when she’s chained up? So we had her use one of the chains, and it might be impossible to do in real life, but Emily totally sold it.

NP: Yep, she gets it.

BM: And I love this. We basically get three episodes of Mara in the hold of Duke’s boat. And I love them all. We always thought of it as the Hannibal Lecter scenes and the power play of it between her and Duke, and it really starts to work very well I think in these last two scenes. And super well in episode 8.

NP: It was fun. And I think one of the challenges of this is that we knew she was going to be chained up in the hold, and so the challenge is how do you differentiate each scene, and each episode, and what is the arc for each one? And so we really had to bear down on what they were going to be about.

BM: Well it was kind of a story unto itself, and here she tells us just a little bit that she’s actually affected by it, when she admits that she liked it when they said they needed her. Is she telling the truth, is she not - Duke doesn’t pay her any mind at all and walks out, but what is she thinking, what is she doing? Is she warming to Duke a little bit or does she have some angle that she’s playing - that’s the question we wanted everyone to be asking.

NP: And that’s the question we live in a lot in 508.

[Audrey talking to a ghost!Nathan (kind of) in her apartment] BM: So this scene also just fell into place really naturally. We knew that Nathan’s ghost situation was not going to be resolved at the end of this episode. And we knew that our first Audrey/Nathan scene in that bed over there was this tender scene, and I wanted to get them back in that same room and have them be in the room together but as far apart as possible. And all of the circumstances they have to deal with have kept them apart - again. And so she thinks that he’s there, but doesn’t know for sure that he is. And they’re both great in this scene.

NP: Again credit to both of the actors for selling this, that she’s talking to him but not looking at him.

BM: Yeah I talked to them about it, they really enjoyed doing it because it’s a really heartfelt scene between the two of them and she’s confessing this doubt that she has (and she’s a very confident person) and they’re both there together but she has no idea whether she’s even there or not. And he knows that she can’t hear him. So he’s watching her go through this. And it’s a scene between the two of them that is unlike anything else, in its DNA that we had been able to do before now. So it felt like an opportunity and I think they both felt that way too.

NP: Yep, love this scene.

BM: But we also just wanted them to bottom out a little bit here because then episode 8 is kind of the come back

NP: The Return of the Jedi as you so nicely put it.

BM: Exactly. We unfreeze him from carbonite. We go fight in the forest.

NP: There’s some Ewoks. It’s great.

[Nathan back in the graveyard for the final scene] BM: So this was always the end of the episode, picking up the ghost case of it all. And we always wanted, right on the back of Nathan being confident that he’s safe and he’s going to take care of it, to then come over here and see that his Deputy Glen has been killed. And we always wanted to have this message left for him [“Even ghosts can die”] scrawled on the grave. And we landed on that one pretty quickly because it couldn’t be too long.

NP: And it sets us up nicely for 508.

BM: Thanks for listening everybody, we will see you again for 508.

[sparklyjojos]

[THE CHILDISH DARKNESS Recaps, Chapters 3-5]

[tw: self-harm, rape, gore, mentions of underage sex, a dog is killed]

---

THREE

Yurio didn’t want to come to Hashimoto’s funeral, instead opting to watch the procession from the town’s library. Saburou barely managed to keep her from jumping through the window in despair and withstood the kicking and biting that followed. 

“It’s alright, it’s alright, it’s alright,” he chanted both to calm her down and to show forgiveness.

Yurio, now staying in the Natsukawa house, had a tendency to self-harm. Her arms were covered in scars, and she still had a bit of pencil lead stuck in her neck where she had stabbed herself once. Shirou and his girlfriend Atena both had medical training, so they helped with patching up her wounds, and Shirou took it upon himself to get the girl proper therapy. The therapy at first just shifted her behaviour from self-harm to rage against others. Sometimes she’d blame Saburou for not letting her die, sometimes yelled at him to go die already.

One night Saburou awoke to see Yurio standing by his bed with a knife, but after a tense moment she broke down, crawled into the bed and hugged him.

“It’s alright, it’s alright, it’s alright,” he chanted again, unsure what else to do other than to let her fall asleep next to him.

Yurio disappeared next morning. Saburou found her at the Mouryou Pond, the characteristic round lake in the mountains where they had first met, and finally had a proper conversation about her and Hashimoto.

The two teens had met through an online chat and gravitated towards each other because of their similar alienation from peers, as well as their obsession with UFOs which were said to sometimes appear in Nishi Akatsuki. The teens would sneak out together at night and observe the sky for hours. Even though the only thing they talked about were UFOs, they became an item and even started having sex the previous year (which Saburou was now internally screaming about, because dear God, that’s a 13-year-old with a 16-year-old, and they didn’t even have a connection other than through some fictional nonsense).

Pregnancy happened, but Yurio’s outraged parents quietly got rid of the problem. They didn’t know about Hashimoto and he never learned he could have become a father. The teens continued to meet in secret, sinking further and further into their own world. After the Jawakutora case, Yurio got the idea of using the points of the spiral for a new purpose: creating a letter to the aliens. The image of two people on the plaque made it look almost like she and Hashimoto were the only two people in the entire universe.

Yurio said crying that maybe she’d never actually liked Hashimoto, maybe she’d be fine with anyone else who would stick around her, “I’m sorry, Takeshi, I’m sorry!” Maybe these self-accusations she was repeating to herself were yet another form of self-harm.

Saburou recalled finding Hashimoto’s body. Cut off arms, legs, head and trunk strewn on a table in the storehouse of the Nishi Akatsuki middle school. The message left next to it said: DEATH GOD JAWAKUTORA.

--

Yurio continued to act violently towards herself and others to the point Atena and Shirou had problems keeping her in check. She ran away repeatedly, she asked Hashimoto for forgiveness one second and badmouthed him the next, she broke Saburou’s nose with a thrown soda can.

After that last event, Saburou stumbled upon his old friend Sarue Kaede on his way back from the doctor.

“You should put that child in a proper hospital,” Kaede insisted. Saburou thought that it’d be probably the right thing to do, but he wanted to let Yurio live in a normal house.

--

Shirou had kept it secret from others until now, but in the face of the new case he had to voice his suspicions about Jirou being the one responsible for all the Jawakutora attacks, and/or hiding under the name Kawaji Natsurou.

Saburou was skeptical. Kawaji Natsurou didn’t look... wild enough in the photos to be a grown-up Jirou, even if he could have gotten a plastic surgery. However, Kawaji’s personal documents from before he had entered university had all gone missing and nobody knew anything about his family.

Shirou wanted to believe that it meant their formerly violent older brother had turned over a new leaf.

--

One day Yurio ran away somewhere again and couldn’t be found. Saburou returned home exhausted and went to sleep in his mother’s room, which always helped him relax.

This time he couldn’t sleep. He felt a presence outside the room, heard someone’s footsteps approaching closer and then a child sobbing. It wasn’t Yurio.

A small girl was crying right by his bed, her hair cut in traditional okappa style, her ghostly face completely white. She gave petrified Saburou a look as if she knew him, then turned back and left the bedroom.

Trying to follow her weeping, Saburou went downstairs to the kitchen, opened the trapdoor to the underground food storage, and found Yurio sleeping there.

--

Later that night, Saburou had a strange dream. Above the Mouryou Pond hovered a big glass box containing Kawaji Natsurou, or maybe Jirou. The man kept calling Saburou ‘Clarice’ and eventually turned into Anthony Hopkins as Hannibal Lecter, reciting his lines from the book Hannibal. Saburou answered with the appropriate line of Clarice Starling.

It may look like I’m closed in this glass case, Jirou / Hopkins / Hannibal said, but depending on your viewpoint, the glass case is simultaneously closing in the rest of the world, including you.You can’t tell which side of the glass is “inside” and which one is “outside”.

Then came the last scene from Hannibal -- with Krendler duct-taped to a chair, about to have his brain eaten -- except the person in the chair was another Saburou.

Would you like to say grace before our meal, Mr. Krendler?

When Saburou woke up in the still dark room, somehow he still felt trapped by a glass box without an inside or an outside.

 ----

FOUR

Maybe it never reached the extent of Jirou’s crimes, but Saburou also did some horrible things in his life.

In the last year of middle school his teacher Ms. Yoshida got married to another teacher, Mr. Kumono. Maybe precisely because of this fact Saburou got interested, planned carefully for some time on how to corner the prey in a vulnerable moment, and smoothly reenacted the plan to initiate sex with her. Then with help of his three friends (Fujita, Kato and Nakayama) Saburou beat up Mr. Kumono, tied him up in the basement and told him in details about the sex with Yoshida, all of which culminated in Saburou raping the woman in front of her husband and wondering why on earth his three friends were sobbing all he while.

It’s like there was some sadistic snake coiling inside him, always ready to hurt other people for no reason. He always intentionally chose to sleep with girlfriends and wives of his friends (including Fujita, Kato and Nakayama).

Was there really a difference between people and animals, considering how much libido could drive them?

The Fujitas had a black dog called Makki that was quite active in terms of attempting procreation. Saburou took this dog into the mountains, killed it with a knife, cut off its genitalia, and buried the body. Why did he feel the need to do that? Maybe he was projecting himself onto the dog, so the one he really wanted to kill was himself, he wasn’t sure.

Could one simultanously love and hate himself? Was it love or hate he felt towards his brothers and parents, his friends and their girlfriends?

Kaede always told him that he was stuck ‘trying out’ this whole relationship thing while not wanting to commit -- maybe because he didn’t believe he was capable of love -- and that he should try to meet a decent single woman, and was his relationship misshaps really that different than what was between his parents?

--

When he was nine, Saburou would sometimes sleep in one bed with his mother. Sometimes when she seemed sad, she’d embrace him and say: you’re the only one mom loves in this family, not dad or Ichirou or Jirou or Shirou, and you only love mom too, right? He would start falling asleep in the comfortable darkness, and she would say: never go away from me. But she didn’t really say anything when he grew up and left for university.

--

Kaede was having a streak of unsuccessful relationships and often meeting Saburou for drinks. He told her that she should be looking for a honest, loyal and benevolent man instead of all these idiots. She proposed dating each other, but Saburou just spouted the same advice, and they exchanged friendly drunk banter like usual.

--

One time in the hospital, Saburou was lying next to his still comatose mother and thinking.

She had been almost lost and brought back to life by doctors 37 times already. Maybe they should let her pass away? But Saburou knew he could never do it. He wanted to hear her voice again. He had crawled into her hospital bed to feel a little of that nostalgic safety.

At this moment he got a call from Yurio, who joked that he shouldn’t try to molest his own mother, and Saburou actually got aroused at the prospect.

A little later Shirou called Saburou to tell him about a new murder (and scolded him for using a cell phone inside a hospital, so Saburou had to leave the building). The case that had started with Hashimoto’s death claimed a few other victims: a man impaled on a stake driven from his mouth to bottom, and two people found in a condition suggesting they were repeatedly thrown to the ground from somewhere high up. The bodies were all found near elementary schools in nearby towns. The same was true about the newest case, with the victim having all his bones broken. Shirou asked Saburou to look into the possibility of the murders being related to old execution methods.

Saburou returned to the hospital room and discovered that his mother had suddenly disappeared. Nobody saw her leave, even if the nurses arrived to the room immediately after the alarm went off. Even a thourough search didn’t help. A true locked room situation.

While Saburou knew he didn’t have anything resembling Shirou’s detective talent, he forced himself to think.

There had been a moment in which he went to buy a newspaper, then returned to his mother’s room for just a brief moment before Shirou yelled at him to please get outside with the phone. In that brief moment, his mother’s face seemed younger than it should. When everybody was frantically searching for her later, Saburou briefly spotted Yurio in the crowd, but it didn’t really register until now.

Yurio and his mother had switched places, allowing the latter to escape.

He found Yurio on the roof, still in white patient clothes. She explained that Mrs. Natsukawa had woken up last night and asked for help in escaping somewhere where no one would find her. They spoke very briefly, but Mrs. Natsukawa said she’s leaving Saburou in Yurio’s hands, and that Saburou was a little strange, but a good child.

-----

FIVE

When the Natsukawa brothers were children, on winter nights they would gather around their mother and ask for stories about her and their father’s younger years. One of the stories felt different than others and went like this.

--

There was once a girl taking a bath alone. She walked out to the hallway to turn off the light before returning to the bathtub, first putting a hand in to make sure no monster was lurking underneath the surface.

The world outside the window was completely dark and seemingly connected into one being with the darkness inside, enveloping and beckoning her. The girl liked the feeling of calm it brought. It felt like her skin was no longer a barrier of her existence, as if she was a part of the darkness, as if the darkness was her true self. She would hold her breath underwater as long as she could until she could hear the heartbeat pounding in her ears. The sound of her own life.

Around that time, the girl was in love with old jazz the likes of Coleman Hawkins, and liked to listen to Buck Clayton’s trumpet the most. No other music captivated her that much. People around her couldn’t really understand her love. Even her jazz loving boyfriend who seemed to like it didn’t understand it like she did.

One Christmas Eve, the girl and her boyfriend were walking through a dark city when a black high-end car stopped nearby and an unusually tall man was forcibly pushed outside. The man was half-naked, his shivering body covered in countless scars. A woman in the car threw the rest of his clothes on the wet ground, which he picked up only after she disappeared in the distance. The man then left for the nearest phone booth.

Before the girl could realize, she had already walked away from her boyfriend towards this man. She managed to catch his name and address from the phone call. When the boyfriend tried to pull her away, she let go of him again.

Something had changed within her the instant she’d noticed that mysterious man’s scars. It’s not that she suddenly fell in love. She couldn’t quite explain the change to her boyfriend.

That evening, when she was taking a bath again, she discovered she couldn’t become a part of the darkness anymore. Maybe when she had looked at that man’s scars, she was wounded as well, scarred in some unseen part of herself. She found the man later, and the weird change stopped.

The sound of jazz never returned to her; the sound of Buck Clayton’s trumpet had already been broken.

--

But in reality their mother’s story was much shorter, and talked about how she first saw her future husband on that Christmas Eve, and how she later found him again at a political rally. The children couldn’t really understand everything yet.

It’s a curious thing, she said, how just seeing somebody else’s scars can wound you, how it may change you and make you grow closer with another.

Maybe their father’s scars wounded them and changed them too.

[>>>NEXT>>>]

[welcometocaritas]

oh wow look an update

Title: The Ghosts of What Happened

Chapter: 6

Characters: Marina Andrieski, Julia Wicker

Pairing: Julia/Marina

Fandom: The Magicians, Hannibal

Format: Multi-Chap

Summary:  

Reynard’s gone. It’s the first thing she notices when they pop back into Marina’s apartment. The next is the body. Marina, sprawled unceremoniously in the center of the carpet, eyes closed, lips parted with blood.

links: A03, FF.Net

A/N: So I’m going to start this off by saying that I’m really, really sorry for how long it’s been since my last update. That’s really sucky of me and I apologize. But I do have a good excuse! Or in my mind a good excuse. Unfortunately, both my physical and mental health have taken a downturn this year and are continuing to get worse so updates still aren’t going to be regular (sorry!) but I’m going to try extra hard to get chapters out. Hospitals and doctor visits also sap a lot of the energy I would normally put towards writing so that’s a pain.

Fair warning, this chapter is extremely rough. I’ve only proofread it one and half times (as opposed to my usual anxiety ridden dozen) but I figured it was probably just best to get it out to you guys instead of keeping you waiting. Hopefully it’s not too disjointed either. I’ve had some problems with thinking coherently and memory these past couple of weeks and I know it’s affected my writing. It’s also been split in half. The second part will probably be up in a few days since I haven’t finished it. I thought that way you’d at least get something instead of waiting for me to finish it so I could post it as one chapter.

I’ve gotta say I’m disappointed with how the writers decided to let Reynard go. Whether or not Julia kills Reynard is entirely her choice. Whatever feels right for her is what's best. If she wants to kill him, she would be justified. If she doesn't want to, she would also be justified in that. But I hate that he is basically escaping unpunished. There is no evidence to show that Persephone will do anything to make him pay appropriately for his crimes or that she will even contain him. She’s had centuries to deal with Reynard. She knew what he was doing and she let it slide. Twice in the last forty years he’s gone on a rampage and yet she stood back and did nothing. She would have continued to do nothing if Julia hadn’t proved that she was about to kill him. That doesn’t sound like someone who’s willing to dispense justice. For all we know, he’s living it up wherever she’s taken him (probably not but we don’t KNOW that) What’s to say he doesn’t return to earth and start up all over again. Maybe not in Julia’s lifetime but somewhere down the line? Reynard needs to be eliminated, not just because of his crimes but because he’s a threat. A huge one. It also felt too much like how in real life rapists get off most of the time with barely a slap on the wrist, if even that. And what, it’s OK to kill Ember and Umber but not Reynard? They may have ruined people’s lives but they’re nowhere near as bad as Reynard. And it could be said that they were mirroring that, trying to be realistic or some such, and show Julia having to cope with what many survivors of rape go through everyday - the knowledge that their rapist is still out there and that there will be no justice for what they did to them. But I don’t think the writers were even considering that. I don’t think they’ve been thinking about the messages they send at all which, in my opinion, is one of the worst things you can do as a writer. What you put out into the world shapes it. There are consequences to what you write. You can do great harm as well as great good and it’s important to keep that in mind. (and of course there’s this post http://welcometocaritas.tumblr.com/post/159979289101/margopluchinsky-feel-free-to-disagree-but)

Paired with the fact that they took away Julia’s shade as punishment for getting an abortion - perhaps not the message they intended but one that came across nonetheless - I remain very disappointed in her storyline this season. They can’t even blame these things on sticking to the books. Reynard was killed in the books (by Kady) and there was no pregnancy or abortion to speak of.

Also, note that alcohol is not actually a good way to combat insomnia. It may help you fall into a deeper sleep and do so quickly but it can cause you to wake up more frequently and to feel less rested than before (this is a very simple overview of the consequences). However not everyone is aware of this and will use it to self medicate anyway. Not to mention, as someone who has insomnia, wakes up frequently and is tired all the time anyway, anything that will help get you to sleep that first time can seem like a miracle and if I drank I’m not sure I would care too much about said ‘consequences’ as long as it meant I wasn’t lying awake forever.

Little piece of trivia: I’ve planning for a while now to make Our Lady Underground Persephone and Reynard’s mother. It was supposed to be a surprise twist but apparently the writers had the same idea so ‘Surprise?’. My version of Reynard and Persephone and their motivations is going to be slightly different, though, as I’ve already constructed the story around that. So hopefully nobody minds that too much.

Anyway, I would just like to thank you all for being so patient with me and I really am sorry about the wait.

. . .

Darkness

noun

the state or quality of being dark

absence or deficiency of light

wickedness or evil

obscurity; concealment

lack of knowledge or enlightenment

lack of sight; blindness.

"Where can I go?

When the shadows are calling

Shadows are calling me

What can I do?

When it's pulling me under

Pulling me underneath . . . "

- Deep End by Ruelle

…

Marina has never been a heavy sleeper, not since those far off nights as child, and so she's awake almost the instant Julia shifts beside her. Clearing the fog from her mind, she is relieved to discover that, unlike the last two nights, a decent amount of space has managed to remain between them. Thank God. Small mercies really can't be appreciated enough.

It also means that Julia's not tossing and turning on top of her.

They're still holding hands, though.

Marina frowns as she feels the hand in hers clench. It's sweaty and hot, only further increasing an already powerful need to let go.

She doesn't.

She doesn't know why she doesn't.

Craning her head, she can just make out Julia's face in the darkness, twisted in discontent. Her lips move in frantic, silent words. Moonlight catches the faint shine on her cheeks.

Marina's face flushes with heat and she clenches her hands before she knows what she's doing - flinches when she again feels the soft skin pressed against her own.

A tear bleeds down the brunette's temple into her hair.

She makes a concentrated effort not to tense up, not to react. But fire licks at her insides, egging her on.

It boils her blood and she wants to lash out, to maim.

She hates him.

And if she ever gets the chance, she'll make sure he knows just how much.

She's not a sadist or particularly keen on torture - especially the kind that involves blood - but she wouldn't hesitate in making an exception for him.

Fire still building, she reaches out her free hand - the damaged one - and hesitantly rests it on Julia's cheek, wiping the wetness away.

The other woman's energy keens under her touch, she can feel the distraught static of it against her fingertips. Oddly enough, it seems to ease somewhat under her administrations, each stroke dampening the violent buzz to a weary hum.

Julia turns her face into her hand, skin too hot as it presses into her palm.

She doesn't want to let go.

She wants to let go more than anything.

Soundless murmurs against her skin, lips brushing with each syllable.

She has to focus to ensure that her rigidity doesn't extent to her fingers, that her nails don't dig into vulnerable flesh. Her heart pounds.

- the monsters are here. The monsters have come to get her. She can sense them hiding in the shadows of her room, watching, waiting. Any moment they will strike and devour her. Now that they 're no longer confined to her nightmares.

"Shh, it's okay, Abby Baby."

But her dad is here. Curled up beside her, arms wrapped around her sobbing frame - a shield. The monsters won 't dare attack while he's here. He'll keep them away.

He always does.

A rough hand soothes the tears from her faces and she buries her head in his chest, hiding from the shadows.

"You're safe. No-one's going to hurt you."

She believes him, even with the terror still thrumming in her blood, sharp and wretched.

She believes him.

There is nowhere safer than in her dad 's arms. Those arms, strong enough to toss her up into the air and catch her without a grunt, again and again until she's crying with laughter. Those arms that can operate a gun and a knife as easily as she does a pencil. What monster would dare touch him?

No, he 'll protect her. He would never let anything hurt her.

He 'll keep the monsters away -

Marina tears her hand away and releases her hold on Julia's - a tad too violently but the brunette doesn't stir.

Not sparing her a glance, she rolls over, curling her body inward, away from the risk of touch, of past, of feeling too much. Squeezing her eyes shut, she wills sleep to return, to push this into the forgotten hallways of memory.

It doesn't.

At three in the morning, she considers swiping a bottle of Irish whiskey from Julia's kitchen to help the process along. But that would only raise the risk of nightmares and she used Ανονείρευτος, the dreamless sleep spell, just last night - hardly worth wasting it on the few measly hours before it's time to get out of bed. So she gives up and retreats to the bathroom to run through her drills again. All of them this time. From the top.

She turns on the light. Not because she needs it - she's long since passed the stage where she needs to watch the sharp, intricate movements of her hands; the patterns are etched into her body, the height of muscle memory - but because the darkness is oppressive. It takes her back, to those nights as a child, shadows closing in-

It takes her back to gasping on the floor, vision fading as the blood pools-

Trapped in the dark, nothing but the illumination of a few meager lights that always, inevitably are swallowed by the shadows. The walls around her, tighter, closer every day. She tries not to feel them. Tries to sleep. When He's not there. But the thump of footsteps above her, creak of floorboards, and murmurs of voices, familiar and otherwise, keep her alert, keep her awake. Maybe one of them will find her. But does she want that? Yes. No. She's safe here (she will never be safe here), He'll protect her (is that what this is?). The people out there want to hurt her, bind her in chains and sink her to the bottom of the river (Witch! Murderer!). But the darkness chokes her, wraps around her just as tightly as those chains, and she-

Head screaming, bursting, a sickly smirk out of the corner of her gaze as she writhes, falls, gives into the black-

Nothing good has ever come of the dark.

"IŞIK!" Light bursts between her hands, stronger than any manmade flashbulb, the kind that would have hurt her eyes if she was still in darkness. She thinks of a basement and a time when she would have given anything for such light, and the energy that buzzes under her skin is familiar, a comfort. The only one she has.

She doesn't leave until Julia knocks on the door five hours later.

Of the two-hundred-and-fifty levels she once achieved to perfection, she only manages fourty-two.

When she steps out the door, there are cracks in the mirror again.

. . .

". . . Darkness is sinking

Darkness is sinking me . . . "

- Deep End by Ruelle

. . .

After she and Julia swap places in the bathroom, she unearths the disgusting remains of her clothes from their shoved place under the bed. She sets fire to them with a click of her fingers - thankfully, that's still one spell she can do without trouble. No denying that there's something cathartic about watching things burn. Maybe there's a closet pyromaniac inside her. Might be entertaining to have them come out more often. First order of business would be blowing up that TV - there's only so much 'Gilmore Girls' she can stand (about a minute and a half).

With Julia in the bathroom, now's her chance . . .

Lost in this train of thought, she forgets about the firealarm which promptly goes off with a piercing shriek the moment the smoke from her clothes reaches the ceiling - well at least it's operational. The problem's quickly solved with a wave of her hand, though not before a disheveled and partially dressed Julia bursts from the bathroom, wide-eyed and hands at the ready.

"Reynard?"

Of course - the wards around the house have that same migraine inducing scream when they've been triggered. Marina feels the slightest slither of guilt twist inside her as watches the other woman look around wildly, searching, equal parts eager and afraid. It's possibly the most animated she's seen her apart from when she stood seconds away from plunging a knife into Reynard and ending his miserable existence for good - if she ever gets her hands on Kady's boytoy . . .

"Fire alarm," she explains, tone blunt, expression unapologetic.

Julia's shoulders sag and it's hard to tell whether she's relieved or disappointed. Maybe both.

After that, they return to their respective corners of the apartment.

Martin - who failed to budge from his spot on the couch all through the disruption - leaps upon this new invention with glee and she and Julia spend the next few hours silencing the hell out of the alarm every time he sets it off.

Marina is never burning anything again. She'll be nursing this headache for days.

It turns out Julia does have some scarves tucked away in that closet of hers. She's surprised she missed them yesterday but supposes it's not entirely out of the realm of possibilities - even she can admit that she wasn't in the best frame of mind to go clothes hunting. She exchanges the turtleneck for a black sweater and a navy blue scarf. It wraps around her neck like a boa constrictor -

hands squeezing, air -

And she rips it off and retrieves the turtleneck again. She's had more than enough of scarves for this lifetime anyway.

When she gets some alone time in the kitchen, she starts collecting the ingredients she'll need, same as yesterday, only to find that there's not enough witch hazel left to make the healing paste. And she's not ready to leave the apartment and get some more. Not yet.

Right now, the wards surrounding them are the only thing protecting her from Reynard. True, it's unlikely that he'll find her if she steps outside them. After all, he probably thinks she's dead and he doesn't seem the type you'd run into at your local supermarket. But a needle of dread still pierces her at the prospect. She can't risk it.

Not since she's reverted to amateur level when it comes to magic. And even when she was at the top of her game, she was no match for him.

It's a truth she has to face as much as she hates it.

She is, for the first time in almost two years, humiliatingly (terrifyingly) weak.

And Reynard . . .

She was held captive by a cannibalistic serial killer for months, ever aware of how any minute shift in circumstance could lead to her being served up for next week's dinner party. There's very little that can scare her these days.

Reynard does.

He has all the power. All of it. And absolutely no qualms when it comes to using it.

He's not the first to try to destroy her. But he does happen to be the one with the most likelihood of succeeding.

Disgusted, she tosses the meager beginnings of her spell into the bin and stalks off. Julia watches her from the couch, gaze burning into her back as she retreats to the bedroom.

Dinner that night is, if possible, even more awkward. Maybe because it's the first time all day that they share more than a minute in the same room - Marina is nothing if not a master in the art of avoidance. Looking at Julia, even now, assaults her with sensations she's done her best to push down since last night - hot, sticky skin pressed against her own, too soft, too much; the race of her pulse as she squeezed the hand in hers; the familiar but foreign tightness in her chest, too tight; her father's hand against her cheek, the coarseness of his sweater against her face -

She clenches the fork in her hand.

Scavenging a plate and disappearing into the bedroom to eat would have been preferable but it would also have been pathetic. Then there's the fact that she has something she needs to discuss with Julia, something she's put off too long already.

- cooking with Martin is its own special circle of hell, one Dante conveniently forgot to mention (not his fault, he was fortunate enough to live in a time period that didn't include the asshole) and the kitchen knife is becoming harder and harder to pass up. It's true that she has a temper and whilst usually she can contain it with her iron control, Martin somehow knows all the right buttons to push (possibly he has a death wish).

He is determined to interrupt her calm wherever possible.

She wonders whether he was born this annoying or if its a curse he acquired with age. She pities his family and friends. Or family anyway. No way did Bubl é have friends.

"Did you not sleep well last night? You are looking a tad wane." The prospect seems to inspire in him an unpleasant mix of curiosity and delight. It's been a while since she's entertained such graphic fantasies of murder but for him she'll make an exception.

"I slept just fine." She pastes a smirk, the kind that used to make first year Brakebills students pee their pants. It's unsurprising but still disappointing that it doesn't have quite the same effect on him."How was your night, though? That couch must be murder."

Her attempt at deflection fails. He shrugs unconcernedly. "I've experienced far worse. It would of course be perfectly reasonable for you to be suffering nightmares after your ordeal with Reynard." He grins, all teeth, all predator.

His hands with the knife is so close to hers. Just a breath away. Her eyes flick to it as she forces the smirk to remain. "That may be true for you but I slept just fine."

He scrutinizes her, entirely too gleeful , entirely unbelieving. A cat, toying with a mouse.

She hates being the fucking mouse.

"I was unaware that peaceful sleep was so . . . loud."

Just a breath away . . .

Fortunately, or unfortunately, Julia chooses that moment to approach them, putting a stop to whatever crime scene was surely about to erupt.

Marina keeps the knife at the edges of her vision, anyway. Just in case -

Just thinking of the conversation she had with Martin yesterday is enough to make her murderous all over again. She's not sure who she wants to kill more. Him or Reynard.

It did, however, raise an important question.

"Did I . . . say anything?" she forces out, fiddling with her knife. A nervous habit she thought long since defeated.

"What do you mean?"

She grits her teeth. "The other night. When I was sleeping."

The second time she was in Port Haven, they had a shortage of beds and stuck her with a roommate. She was able to inform Marina that, because her luck really is that bad, she'd somehow developed the ability to sleep talk. When she asked her what she would say when she did, her roommate was evasive at best.

'Nothing really. Sometimes names. You mention your dad. Mostly you just cry.'

The last part has her stomach churning now and she has to put down her fork and avoid looking at her plate of food so as not to risk any further humiliation. It's fear of what she might have let slip in her unconscious state that has her raising a topic she would give anything to leave dead, though.

Remembering the nightmare she had, she can only imagine the kinds of things she might have said. None of them ease the wave of anxiety, swelling up inside of her. She might have told Julia the bare bones of what happened to her, or rather one of the things that happened to her - because she's lucky enough to have a colorful variety - but that was when she was assured she wouldn't actually remember any of it.

She's not ready for Julia to know her like that. She's not ready for anyone to.

There is a pause that drags on too long in which Julia watches her carefully. Marina can't pick apart what lurks in her gaze but her gut twists with unease. Whatever it is, she doesn't like it. There's something far too knowing there.

But whatever Julia might have heard, she doesn't know a damn thing.

No-one does.

"You uh . . ." Julia pauses, pushes the food around on her plate in thought. There were enough leftovers from her cooking last night to see them through dinner but she notices the other woman has done little more than pick at hers. She'll have to keep an eye on that. It'll do them no good if they finally get their hands on Reynard only for Julia to pass out before delivering the killing blow - however she's going to do that. Not to mention, magic becomes excessively tricky (read: nigh impossible) to wield when you're malnourished.

She can attest to that.

But back to the problem at hand. Ascertaining that Julia remains as oblivious about her life as ever.

She's stalling, that much is obvious. Uncertain on what the best course of action is, what answer would serve Marina best. That doesn't exactly bode well. "You mentioned your dad."

"Oh." Something in Marina shuts down. Her heart lingers on a beat too long, her blood freezes her in place. For a moment, only darkness fills her mind. No thought. No feeling.

Darkness.

The moment ends. "What about him?" She tries to sound nonchalant, unconcerned with the answer. More or less succeeds. Enough practice will do that.

Her heart skips, picks up to an urgent race. How much could sleepy mumbles really have revealed? Enough to trigger the memory of that moment when they were in Julia's mind, when Marina confessed far too much? Is such a thing even possible? She's not looking at her like she knows. Knows all the gory details of her life.

She's seen that look enough to recognize it in an instant.

Julia shrugs, looking up from her plate. "Nothing. Just called out to him, I guess."

The relief is so strong that she doesn't pause to inspect whether the other woman might be lying to her. She can't. "Right. That sounds about right." She thinks about throwing in something about the nightmare having been one of those generic memories of being lost in a shopping mall as a kid, terrified and desperate for her father to find her. But that might be too obvious. She's not the type to overshare and Julia knows that. Telling her the (false) details of her dream would probably encourage more suspicion rather than snuff it out.

Marina turns her attention instead to eating, finishing off the last few mouthfuls of pasta. They settle uneasily in her still twisting stomach.

Julia hesitates. "Are you and your dad close?"

Her mouth thins. She pastes a smile that should pass for halfway convincing. "Hardly. And he died a long time ago, anyway."

Julia trains her gaze back on her plate, stirring with a tad too much focus. "Oh. Yeah. Mine too."

It's a revelation of sorts and Marina offers a weak smile, not sure if she's grateful or uneasy by Julia's willingness to share this information with her. Then again, her dad's probably not the big elephant in the room that hers always seems to be. Their relationship probably wasn't quite that colorful.

Probably died from something mundane like cancer. Maybe a car accident.

Tragic but average.

She can't deny her interest. She has a particular thirst for unearthing people's vulnerabilities, turning them around in her head, inspecting for ways they can be used to her advantage. Weak points.

It's habit to do that again now and she has to struggle to put on the brakes and halt the process. Morality is somewhat elusive to her these days but there's something uneasy in her chest that tells her it wouldn't be right. At least, not for the time being. Not after the other night.

What Julia did for her.

Even through the anger and shame at being seen, there's a trickle of gratitude for her. For what she did. For not not bringing it up, even now when Marina herself has broached the subject. She doesn't have it in her to thank her. To shine a light on what happened, or to lay herself bare in that way ever again.

But she can resist the urge to delve into her weaknesses and carve weapons from what she finds there to use against her.

She can do that.

At least for now.

. . .

"The spoken word converts individual knowledge into mutual knowledge, and there is no way back once you've gone over that cliff. Saying nothing was more amendable, and over time I'd come to see that it was usually your best course of action." ― Karen Joy Fowler, We Are All Completely Beside Ourselves

. . .

So it's been almost a week since returning from Fillory, and she's no closer to figuring out a way to destroy Reynard - has actually gotten further away from that particular destination - or figuring out what's going on with Marina. Granted, the last is little more than a side project to keep her mind off how everything seems to be going-has gone to shit. It's not working very well.

Maybe because she's exhausted all of her information. There's nothing new to go on. All she has is a vague feeling of knowing something that she doesn't and the distorted murmurs caused by a nightmare.

There was a moment, during dinner, when Marina broached the subject with her, giving her the perfect opportunity to fish for clues. But she didn't. Quite the opposite, actually. She went so far as to deny knowledge of the little information she did have. To reassure Marina.

Because she saw it. The fear in her eyes. Skillfully hidden but by this point she likes to think she knows her well enough to detect those kind of irregularities in her demeanor. Fear at being seen, being known. Of whatever she wants hidden seeing the light.

And all the questions disappeared from her then. All the curiosity and thirst for distraction. None of it was important.

All that mattered in that moment was eliminating the fear in her eyes. She never wanted to see it there again.

(knew she would)

It's a relief to know that she cares. For a minute there, she began to doubt that she still could. That when Reynard hollowed her out, he did so completely, stealing away with her humanity on top of everything else.

But she still loves Quentin - the feeling is dulled, easily ignored, and she doesn't experience the guilt she knows she should for betraying him, instead she feels anger at his interference in the trap they set for Reynard, that he might have ruined the one chance she had to take him down, but he had warned her, and she had warned him right back, and it's all just a jumbled mess of confusion that most days doesn't even register. But she knows she loves him.

And she knows she cares whether Marina is hurt. Whether she's scared.

And it's a relief.

"I have something for you."

The voice startles her and she flinches, eyes almost wild, and glances around for the source. But it's just Marina, coming into her room, a handful of papers in hand. And she tries to relax, really she tries. But her body is rigid and her heart is too loud, too fast and the headache that's only just started to abate resurges with a vengeance.

Marina pauses in the doorway, expression inscrutable. Julia knows she sees, though.

She feels lightheaded. And it's only then she realizes that she's holding her breath.

She exhales, too harsh, too quick, and feels a rush of dizziness for the effort. But her muscle relax slightly as she pulls fresh oxygen into her lungs and the bite of her nails into her skin - she notices her hands have clenched into fists - distracts her from the pounding in her chest.

After a minute, she breathes a little easier, sees a little clearer.

Her head still hurts like a mother fucker.

"What time is it?" Because disorientation is starting to set in and she can't remember how long she's been sitting in here, on her bed, staring at the wall. Only that it's darker than she remembers and the scrape of her throat speaks of dehydration.

"Almost nine," Marina answers. She doesn't comment on Julia's freak reaction or her current confusion and for that she's grateful.

Nine. She's been in here for three hours. There's a book beside her on European folklore. It's from the days of FTB when they were looking for anything they could dig up on Our Lady Underground. She hoped it might offer some insight on Reynard for them now but there's not much to find.

French.

Fox.

Trickster.

Benevolent.

So basically just a bunch of crap.

She came in here to read it. But she couldn't concentrate. And then her thoughts got ahold of her. The rest is a blur.

She sighs and rubs her eyes, suddenly feeling her exhaustion. "Did you say you had something?"

Her heart picks up again but this time it's not fear that makes her sit at attention. It's hope. Or what she can manage of it. Maybe she's done it. Maybe she's found what Julia can't. An answer. A-

The other woman nods and comes further into the room, taking a seat on the bed. There's a near meter of space between them. She's not sure if it's for her benefit or Marina's. Possibly both. Either way, it's welcome.

"I wrote down the basic steps of that dreamless sleep spell," she says, drawing her attention to the papers in her hand. "Figured you might want it."

Her shock overcomes the familiar pangs of disappointment. She's surprised at the gesture. Though maybe she shouldn't be. "Thanks."

Marina scowls. "Please, like I want to go through the effort of casting that spell on you myself all the time. And this is hardly the first spell I've ever given you - which reminds me, we need to work on expanding your repertoire if you're serious about taking on Reynard."

That's true and she remembers days and nights hunched over binders and papers in the Safe House, Marina seated beside her, talking her through the process, correcting her errors and giving rare but useful advice.

Things were so much easier then.

It might even be nice, to return to some semblance of that. There are so many spells out there and it would be a lie to say she doesn't still hunger to get her hands on all of them. Marina, at least, has the knowledge to bring her just a little closer to that dream.

She doesn't comment on the Reynard part. Marina knows she's serious. They both are. There are some things that don't need to be voiced to be understood.

"Still," she insists. "I appreciate it."

And something falters in her gaze, just for a second, maybe even half, but Julia catches it. Even so, she's not sure what it is that she sees.

Last night, when Marina was in the shower, she unearthed her scarves from the chest she kept them in and scattered them in conspicuous - but not overly so - places in her closet. What she really wants to do is heal the other woman but knows the offer will only make Marina retreat further. Or lash out.

But Marina is still wearing that same damn turtleneck - the one she wore for her Brakebills exam and hasn't touched since - and she wonders if whether she should have been more obvious after all. It's not something she can ask about, though. Just another question to lock away inside her and ponder for answers.

She doesn't do well with unanswered questions.

That old thirst rears its head as she looks the pages over after Marina relinquishes them. She soaks in the feeling, the fire. How hard it once was to get her hands on even the barest traces of magic. It still feels a little like a drug every time she grasps some but it no longer controls her - that craving.

Well, no more than her caffeine addiction does.

Marina's writing is in block letters so as to be more legible - Julia has complained about her confusing scribble in the past - but it's the diagrams that hold her attention. Drawing after drawing of hand positions, surprisingly detailed and accurately, as well as sketches of what she should picture in her mind as she performs the spells.

They're good. Far exceeding anything Julia can create with a pen.

"Just . . ." Marina shifts. "Use it sparingly, okay? Or you might find yourself with some unpleasant side-effects."

"What kind of side-effects?" To be honest, Julia doesn't even care. Not really. If it'll get rid of the nightmares, if she can stop reliving that moment again and again, she doesn't care if it makes all her hair fall out.

Marina shrugs. "Oh, you know: paranoia, panic attacks, hallucinations. The usual. I knew one guy who started eating shit because he thought he was a dung beetle . . ."

Julia grimaces.

All of a sudden she's reluctant to take the spell but not so reluctant that she won't. She'd eat shit if it meant a break from the nightmares but she'd rather not have to.

"How often is too often?"

Marina considers the question for a moment. "It varies. I'd start with one night on, three nights off. See how that goes."

Sounds reasonable enough. Even a temporary reprieve is better than none.

"Thanks," she says and means it.

This wasn't something that she asked for. Marina didn't have to give it to her. Especially after the incident with Reynard. But she did this for her anyway. Even gone the extra mile and, instead of just showing Julia the spell, writing it out for her so that she can learn it in her own time. The pile of pages isn't thin - it would have taken a while to complete.

Thing about Marina is, for all her obvious protestations to the contrary, she does care.

- "Jesus, Julia, I wanna help." -

It's just a little harder to spot than with most. But when you see it, you see it.

And you can't close your eyes to it.

You're stuck with the knowledge, whether you want it or not.

(she's not sure she does)

It's a care, a kindness she's not sure she deserves after everything that's happened. As much as she wants to escape the nightmares a small part of her wonders if she has the right to. Maybe this is her punishment to bear. For summoning Reynard. For all the lives that he's destroyed. For betraying Quentin.

(he betrayed you too, he said he'd help you catch Reynard and instead he ruined what might have been your only chance to stop him)

Marina turns uncomfortable at the gratitude. "Yeah, well, it's more for my sake than yours. You keep kicking me in your sleep."

She doesn't know if that's true. James always said she slept like the dead, even when she was dreaming. But that could have changed. Nothing else has stayed the same, so why should that?

"Oh. Sorry." She feels something that might be guilt, or shame. It's hard to tell, weak as it is. It's an uncomfortable emotion whatever it is. But deserved - on top of feeding her to Reynard, she's also cutting into her sleep time.

"It's fine." Marina's response is terse and, if anything, she looks even more uncomfortable with the apology. Unbelievable. Before Reynard, she'd never even glimpsed a flicker of unease in the other woman. Now it seems to be happening far too much. It uneases her. Things have changed too much already. "I'm going to take a shower."

It's the regular excuse slash exit strategy that both of them have been employing, to various degrees of success. Sometimes you just need to run.

Julia nods, and lets her go.

. . .

"Unexpected kindness is the most powerful, least costly, and most underrated agent of human change. Kindness that catches us by surprise brings out the best in our natures."

- Bob Kerrey

Işık (Turkish for 'light, sun’) is a spell used to create light in the books. It’s the hedge witch version of similar one taught at Brakebills and is the spell for Level 1 that hedges need to be able to demonstrate in order to be let into safe houses. The way they use levels is a lot more ambiguous on the show and I’ve decided to incorporate a lot more from the books when it comes to that and the world of hedge magicians. Mostly because I like the descriptions of it in the book and how it seems to be an organised, worldwide network operating right under the noses of ‘real magicians’ who for the most part don’t even know it exists. On the show, they seem more like crack houses that those at Brakebills are fully aware of (as evidenced by Elliot in the third episode). So I’m going for a mix of these two.

I can’t recall if I’ve mentioned this before but just in case Port Haven is the Psychiatric Facility they stuck Abigail in after her family was killed. I’ve got some theories about this - and how I’m not convinced it was entirely legal or was, at the very least, an abuse of power - but I’ll get into that another time.

There is also a reference here to the time Hannibal kept Abigail in his basement. I don’t think he kept her in there 24/7 - we know he took her out at least once to manipulate her into slashing the throat of her father’s corpse - but we do know from Word of God that she was kept in there. Seeing as, apparently, Beverly Katz saw her down there before Hannibal killed her. It was also dark enough down there that Beverly needed a torch to see at the time.

Note that alcohol is not actually a good way to combat insomnia. It may help you fall into a deeper sleep and do so quickly but it can cause you to wake up more frequently and to feel less rested than before (this is a very simple overview of the consequences). However not everyone is aware of this and will use it to self medicate anyway. Not to mention, as someone who has insomnia, wakes up frequently and is tired all the time anyway, anything that will help get you to sleep that first time can seem like a miracle and if I drank I’m not sure I would care too much about said ‘consequences’ as long as it meant I wasn’t lying awake forever.

Also, someone asked if Quentin would be coming into this and I can tell them that eventually he will because I think he’s a very important part of Julia’s life and that he will need to be involved in some way for Julia to fully heal. However, it won’t be for a long while. Right now, the story is very much just about Marina and Julia. Although, Kady will be coming into it to at some point, probably around part 3 (to give you some idea when that might be, we are currently about halfway through part 1 or just over that). Because I love Kady and I love her relationship with Julia and I need her in this story.

Also, if you’re interested, check out my Marina/Julia vids where I attempt to make people cry: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JQ_sTg5Y6Xg https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yl1MnbVCBtQ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S-kNwZCE-3Y (a julia vid) I made a really bad intro trailer for this fic https://youtu.be/JrZNJh8crYI Say hi to me and we can cry about Marina and Julia together! Twitter: https://twitter.com/BonnieLextra

[truempathy]

what does will feel for hannibal

RMMBER HOW I SAID I’D GO TO BED …. i saw this ask and dragged my tired trash ass outta bed

it’s … complicated. will, for hannibal, feels … a lot. he feels wariness – rightfully so – because he knows what hannibal is, what he does. he feels irritation for how hannibal always plants himself in will’s life, tries to take everything will has away from him so that only hannibal and hannibal alone remains. fostering codependency, he called it once. he feels a connection. a deep one, from knowing how hannibal works on the inside, from understanding what hannibal is and who he is in ways literally no one else does. he knows that hannibal bared himself for will, that it’s not something hannibal does to anyone, and that, fucked up as they were, hannibal gave will gifts. gifts that will usually didn’t want — gifts that, usually, involved the lovely experience of taking someone’s life — but gifts nonetheless because will, deep down, appreciated it. wanted it. will understands hannibal like hannibal understands him. 

hannibal understands him better than he understands himself, actually, in some regards. he “helped” will realize what he wanted to do in season 2, helped him “come into himself” so to speak. it wasn’t something will was necessarily comfortable with, or something he’s comfortable with still even now, but it was the truth and will appreciated it, fucked up as it is. he’d probably never admit it, because he’d feel guilty about it, feel disgusted at himself for it, but hannibal in his own fucked up way was trying to help will. just not in a positive, selfless, caring way.

he doesn’t trust hannibal. will’s not stupid enough to. he knows hannibal cares for him, he knows hannibal loves him, but will doesn’t trust hannibal. and, despite the finale – in LIGHT of the finale – will doesn’t trust that hannibal won’t try to manipulate him, persuade him into killing more people. because will knows hannibal will try to make him. will knows that if he’s around hannibal he’s going to. hannibal brings out the worst in him. it’s hard to trust someone who used you, manipulated you, killed people you cared about, tried to kill others you cared about, and just kills in general with little regard or care for the people around him. will’s under no illusions that hannibal is a good man, or a good person. 

more than likely, will’s always going to be on his guard with hannibal. he’s always going to be torn between turning hannibal in, killing hannibal himself, or giving in to what hannibal wants for them both. will is always going to be at war with his own morality, and he’s never going to be comfortable with hannibal’s cannibalism, or how he manipulates others just because he can. will’s always going to know that hannibal might try something to push will, force him to kill again, that will might end up trying to kill hannibal sometime down the line in response. but he’s also going to always, deep down, think and dream about what he wants, and how hannibal can offer that to him. 

funnily enough though, will isn’t scared of hannibal. he knows how the man works, and knows how to manipulate the man if he has to. he’s used to playing a really dangerous game of cat-and-mouse with hannibal, and honestly, it kind of excites will as much as it disgusts him. he’s kind of adopted some of hannibal’s curiosity as his own, the dark kind, the kind where will does stuff to influence actions and see what people’s responses will be. not to the point that hannibal does it, nowhere close to that, and not very often, but it’s happened enough that it’s not something will can deny about himself or pretend doesn’t exist inside of him anymore.

but will still feels drawn to hannibal. dangerously so. he has to force himself away from his old life, away from his old house, his old friends, away from hannibal himself, so he’s not tempted to see hannibal again, to speak to him. he knows what he and hannibal have going on is unhealthy, toxic, dangerous. literally dangerous. people’s lives have been ruined, people have died because of how they were around each other, because of how they goaded each other into becoming more extreme, more confident. 

but despite will’s reservations and his lack of proclivity for cold blooded murder or cannibalism, will still wants to be with hannibal. he wants to learn more about himself from hannibal, wants to see what else he can do. he knows that hannibal accepts who he is — all parts of him, including (especially) the parts of him that will himself hates — and the knowledge of being understood by someone like that so intimately and completely is a tempting one. 

it’s literally making a deal with the devil in will’s mind, except it feels more like there’s no way out of it, and regardless of whether or not will accepts or denies the offer, he’s damned either way. hannibal has changed will, irrevocably, irreparably, forever. the will of now is not the same will that existed back before he knew hannibal. he kind of hates hannibal for that, but he also really doesn’t, because he knows he’s changed hannibal too. and that’s just kind of the gist of it isn’t it? they’ve kind of twisted themselves around each other to the point where it’s hard to tell where one of them starts and the other ends. they’re both such big influences on each other. it’s a waltz that only the two of them really know how to dance. he feels love for hannibal, too, in his own way. it’s not necessarily sexual or romantic, but it’s definitely not platonic or familial either. it’s not really explainable in any proper words. a love for hannibal exists within will, but i don’t think it’s the kind of love that hannibal has for will, simply because hannibal accepts who he is, and accepts who will is and what he could be, whereas will refuses to be completely comfortable with what they are together, what he is around hannibal. he didn’t really consider the idea that hannibal could be in love with him either up until , well , he found out hannibal was, lol. i think will would think about that quite a lot afterwards.

will doesn’t want to be a killer, a murderer, someone who kills people just for fun. he also doesn’t want to be the man who sleeps with the devil, who lets him kill and doesn’t stop him. the blood on hannibal’s hands might as well be blood on his hands because of the part that he’s had to play in all of it. but it’s also hard to imagine not being with hannibal. i mean, he tries, oh does he try, and he tries to convince himself he can break whatever it is between them. will found happiness away from hannibal – he had a family, and a life, and he was happy. but i think will knows that as happy and comfortable as he is away from hannibal, he’ll never really feel … satisfied? or whole. hannibal gives him that satisfaction.

hannibal has given will a lot. he’s taken a lot away from him too. a lot more than he’s giving. it feels sometimes like what hannibal has given him outweighs what he’s taken, though. i mean, listen, the fact that even after hannibal : manipulated him, made him question his sanity and reality, landed him in a mental hospital for the criminally insane, pinned his multiple murders on him, made him believed he killed abigail and ate her ear, made will kill other people, had will’s unborn baby killed, tried to have will’s FAMILY killed, killed beverly, tried to kill will’s other friends …. and will STILL feels connected to hannibal and drawn to him, of his own free will … kind of shows that will is kind of just as much fucked up as hannibal. not in the same ways, not to the same extent, but still. it’s not stockholm syndrome, or quiet manipulation, or gaslighting. not at this point. will knows EXACTLY what hannibal is, what he does, what he’s like. will knows this, and understands it, to an almost personal level. will can’t stand it, but he also can’t stand to be away from it.

so, will is just basically in an endless teeter-totter of wanting to be around hannibal, to continue this unhealthy thing they have with one another, and ripping himself away and locking hannibal up for the good of himself and everyone else.

[darling-i-read-it]

And the Woman Clothed in Sun

3x10

Hannibal Lecter x reader x Will Graham 

Hannibal Re-Write Series Masterlist

Word Count: 2.3k 

Warnings: spoilers for hannibal, murder, pregnancy 

Author’s Note: I am half asleep. I really hope this makes sense. This is short too which super sucks but there was a lot fo Francis in this episode that I cut out because thats boring because the reader isn’t in it lmao 

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

Official Episode Summary: Carving retrieved from crime scenes help Will and the FBI learn about Francis Dolarhyde's psychology; Dolarhyde finds a way to communicate with Hannibal.

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

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

(not my gif) 

You stared down at the bathroom counter. You looked back up at yourself in the mirror and took a long, deep breath. This wasn’t ideal. This was not ideal. You didn’t want this right now, you didn’t need it right now. 

Will had gone out to get you breakfast and you wanted to test the suspicion you had picked up the night before. Will had been talking about children and it got your mind reeling. You got up early to get a pregnancy test, just to try it, just in case. 

The face staring back at you in the mirror was scared. She wasn’t easily scared. She just wasn’t ready to be a mother. You turned on the faucet and splashed some water in your face. 

At the sound of the door opening you quickly grabbed the two pregnancy tests you had taken and shoved them in your purse that was sitting on the counter. You forced your nerves away. You weren’t ready for Will to know this quite yet, especially not after last night and his nightmares. 

“Coffee,” he called, holding up a bag of food and tray of coffee cups.

“You’re a godsend Will Graham.”

“I do what I can.” 

-

Francis Dolarhyde sat at Hannibal’s desk. The desk must have held many memories when it came to the killer. Francis was amazed that he was there, Hannibal on the phone with him. He had never really actually thought they would talk to each other. And yet, here he was. 

“I have admired you for years and have a complete collection of your press notices. Actually, I think of them as unfair reviews,” Francis said. He looked in front of him at the office. He imagined himself sitting there, across from Hannibal, like a patient. 

“As unfair as yours?” Hannibal thought about how to angle this. “They like to sling demeaning nicknames, don’t they?” 

“The Tooth Fairy,” Francis sneered. 

“What could be more inappropriate?” Hannibal questioned.

“It would shame me for you to see that, if I didn’t know you suffered the same distortions in the press.”

“It happens to the best of us,” Hannibal promised. Francis thought about this. The clippings he had read and re-read of Hannibal always mentioned the Grahams. The Bloody Valentines. 

“Yes, I suppose it has to.” 

-

“I don’t think I’ve been here since you last taught,” you whispered. You stood outside one of the FBI’s lecture rooms with Will. You could hear the echo of Bedelias voice inside. 

“You had to bring that up,” Will muttered with a fond remembrance of a smile. “Hey, I used to love your lectures. They were interesting.”

“You liked to tease me as much as you could,” he argued. You shrugged.

“I thought it added to the entertainment. Come on.” 

The two of you walked into the room together. It was packed but Bedelia was about to be finished. You had planned to come and see her when she would be alone but catching the tail end of her Hannibal lecture was alright too. 

“Days and evenings again, the smell of fresh flowers and the vague awareness of a needle bleeding into me. Hannibal always stood at a distance, very still. There were days of talk. He never called me my name.” She recognized you and Will as you stepped into the room. She moved slowly around her podium. “It was strange at first, and then it wasn’t strange. And then my name was Lydia Fell. Deeply-felt truths of who I am as bedelia Du Maurier were smoke and mirrors of the highest order.” 

You and Will stepped into the crowd and sat down. Bedelia walked over to you and the audience followed her, ears engulfing what she was saying. 

“What we take for granted about our sense of self, everything we see, everything we remember, is nothing more than a construct of the mind.” Will eyed her with an uneasy mix of skepticism and sympathy. “Dante was the first to conceive of hell as a planned place. An urban environment. Before Dante, we spoke not of the ‘Gates of Hell’, but the ‘Mouth of Hell’. My journey of damnation began when I was swallowed by the beast.” 

-

The class wrapped up quickly and the rest of the room emptied. You and Will stood up and waited for them to leave. Eventually, when they were gone, Will spoke. His hands were shoved in his pockets and his glasses laid perfectly on the bridge of his nose.

“Poor Dr. Du Maurier, swallowed whole. Suffering inside Hannibal Lecter’s bowels for what must have felt like an eternity.” You smiled smugly at his words. “You didn’t lose yourself, Bedelia, you just crawled so far up his ass you couldn’t be bothered.” 

“Hello Grahams.” 

“You hitched your star to a man commonly known as a monster,” you said with that same smile. 

“You’re the Bride of Frankenstein,” Will said. Bedelia looked at you, eyeing you carefully.

“We’ve all been his bride,” she said and ignored the thoughts creeping up to her. 

“How did you manage to walk away unscarred? We’re covered with scars,” Will said. Bedelia still dodged the question completely because she knew how and you knew how. It was becoming increasingly clear that you had not told Will about how Hannibal actually saw Bedelia in Florence. 

“I wasn’t myself. You were. Even when you weren’t, you were Will.”

“I wasn’t wearing adequate armor.” 

“No. You were naked,” she said. “Have you been to see him?” You and Will shared a look.

“Yes,” you answered.

“Haven't’ learned anything, have you? Or did you just miss him that much?” 

-

Bedelia’s home office was strangely homey. You hadn’t expected that kind of thing from her, considering how stoic you read her to be on occasions. You weren’t sure how you felt about it. But Will had insisted that you come along. The last time he talked to a therapist by himself it ended up in more murders than he had planned. 

“If he does end up eating you, Bedelia, you’d have it coming,” Will said. 

“I can’t blame him for doing what evolution has equipped him to do,” she argued. 

“If we just do whatever evolution equipped us to do, then murder and cannibalism are morally acceptable,” you said . 

“They are acceptable. To murderers and cannibals. And you two,” she mused.

“And you,” Will shot back. “You lied, Bedelia. You do that a lot. Why do you do that a lot?” he asked. She and you shared a look. 

“I obfuscate. Hannibal was never not my patient. Covert treatment suffers secrecy and disapproval,” she said. You shook your head lightly.

“You lied in your lecture. To others. You lied to the police,” you said. She and you stared at each other and that was the first moment that Will understood there was something he didn’t actually know. He looked between the two of you. 

“My relationship with Hannibal isn’t as passionate as yours,” she said. “Did you ever discuss why I’m alive?” she asked at you. You and Hannibal had only talked about it once, in front of the painting back in Florence. Will had been so wrapped up in his head then that he didn’t even register it as something he should have noted. 

“You tell those people that you believed you were Lydia Fell which is a lie in and of itself. But then you let Will believe that you just were out of dodge because Hannibal liked you. But that’s not true is it?” you asked. She pursed her lips. You stared so intently at each other that Will felt as though he wasn’t even there. 

“You know how I lived because I wasn’t the first woman that Hannibal imagined as you,” she said. You raised your chin and gave her an amusing look. 

“Bedelia Du Maurier, Alana Bloom…,” you whispered. Will was picking up the hints now. He understood now. “He needed companionship.”

“No, he needed you,” she argued. “But he could never have you because you were Will’s and he cared far too much for Will to take you. Do you realize the extent of your reach?” You surpressed your pride.

“Why don’t you tell me?” you challenged. 

“I used to wash his hair when he came home, drenched in blood. He whispered your name when he forgot who I was. Can you imagine, having so much hold over a person who is usually so contained? I was amazed. From a professional standpoint, I was amazed.” She glanced at Will who was hearing all of this for the first time. “He used to bring people over for dinner and when he killed a man he asked if I wanted to participate, knowing I wouldn’t but knowing you would.” 

Bedelia smiled gently. 

“It’s a good thing that you married each other. Hannibal’s place things, linked for life.” She looked over at Will. “You couldn’t save him. Do you think you can save this new one?” 

-

You and Will sat in the car together in the parking lot of the hospital Hannibal was being held at. You had been quiet the whole way there.

“You knew about all of that? All of what Bedelia was saying?” he asked. He looked over at you but you looked only forward. 

“I figured most of it. I knew he dated Alana to spite me, he told me once when you were in jail that Alana was easier to sleep with.” You scoffed. “But I only ever thought about it in correlation to Bedelia. I knew she was lying all around,” you whispered. Finally, you looked over at him.

“Should you stay in the car?” he asked. You shook your head.

“That was ages ago,” you promised. “Don’t even think about it.” 

“I have to think about it because I can’t knowingly take my wife to go talk to the man who fantasized about being with her for practically two years,” he said calmly. 

“What’s he gonna do in the cage Will?” 

He thought about this for a moment. He went to open the door but you grabbed his hand. He looked over at you quickly and noticed you seemed to be holding something back. That irked him.

“What else have you not told me?” You looked over at him and wondered if you should tell him. You had to tell him. You wanted him to know. You needed him to know so that he could help you. You grabbed your purse and fished out the pregnancy test before handing it to him. 

It took him a moment. He looked down at it and his brain, usually so quick, did not realize what that small pink symbol meant. Then it all came at him. Slowly, he looked up at you.

“Are you messing with me?”

“No,” you said nervously. He was quiet. “Well?” He looked up at you and read your worry. He had made you nervous and it made him feel bad. He wasn’t nervous about being a parent with you he was nervous about the baby.

“Oh my gosh,” he said and a smile creeped onto his face. 

“You don’t hate it?” 

“No! Not at all? I mean...” he trailed off and there were the nerves again but you grabbed his hand and held it. 

“We’ll take it one day at a time.” He took your hand and kissed your palm gently, shaking a bit. He was going to be a father. Him. He was amazed. 

“Well now I’m defiantly not letting you come with me.” 

“I’m not going to tell Hannibal. Not yet anyway. It would look suspicious. Come on.” 

-

Will stood in front of the cage, just inches from Hannibal. You stood right beside them, leaning against the glass.

“Are you familiar with William Blake’s The Great Red Dragon and the Woman Clothed in Sun? Blake’s Dragon stands over a pleading woman caught in the coil of its tail. Few images in Western art radiate such a unique and nightmarish charge of demonic sexuality,” Hannibal said, holding the crime scene photos. 

“The man who killed the Jacobis and the Leedses saw something in them that drew him and drove him to do it. He chose them because something in them spoke to him,” Will said.

“The Jacobis were the first to help him, the first to lift him into the Glory of his Becoming. The Jacbois were better than anything he knew,” Hannibal explained.

“Until the Leedses,” you muttered.

“As the Dragon grows in strength and Glory, there are families to come.”  

“I have to believe there is a common factor and we’ll find it soon,” Will said steadily. 

“Otherwise you have to enter more houses and see what the Dragon has left for you. Eleven days to the next full moon. Tick-tock.” Hannibal looked over at you. “I like this Dragon. I don’t think he’s crazy at all. I think he may be quite sane.” 

“I think that your opinion on his sanity is subjective,” you said. 

-

You and Will walked into the museum together, up to where they kept the important painting. 

“This way, Mr. and Mrs. Graham. You know, you’re the second group who’s asked to see the Blake today,” the tour guide said steadily. You stiffened and Will gave you a look. He took his glasses off slowly and you took them from him, putting them in the case you were holding in your jacket. 

As you reached the level where the painting was you grew unsettled. 

Will grabbed your arm. He had seen something that you hadn’t and now that you were two, he had extra reasons to be paying attention to it all.  You turned around and the tour guide left the room to go find his colleague. The elevator was still open and Will pushed you gently out of the way. 

Before you could protest, Will caught the closing elevator door. There was a moment of silence as the man in the elevator stared at Will and then he attacked him, shoving him to the ground. 

You rushed to Will first who was pointing eagerly at the elevator but before you were able to stop it it closed. 

“Are you okay?” you asked quickly.

“Yes, downstairs,” he said even quicker. You and him got up and rushed downstairs but by the time you reached the final flour, he was gone.

3x11

[sparklyjojos]

[THE CHILDISH DARKNESS Recaps, Chapter 9 -- FINALE]

[tw: gore]

---------

NINE

Near the end of Paul Auster’s 1995 movie Smoke, the writer protagonist says something like this:

“Thoroughly trapped, I believed in his story. This is the only fact that matters. As long as just a single person believes in a story, it can’t not be true.”

[Note: I haven’t found anything like the above quote in the actual screenplay. The closest thing was: Bullshit is a real talent, Auggie. To make up a good story, a person has to know how to push all the right buttons.]

Even if the person knows well that the story is a lie, as long as they continue to believe in it, it’s also the truth. A lot of writers have talked about this in and outside their novels, and others quietly acknowledge that. The true story is one that contains lies. If you want to tell the truth, you have to lie sometimes. But why does the believer believe in something he knows isn’t real?

One could say that all stories are made out of lies and overflow with contradictions. To what extent can these contradictions be forgiven varies from person to person. Some seek complete order, some don’t, some notice a disrepancy yet let it pass. It depends on a person as to which stories they consider true and dive deep into, and which they dismiss as a lie. Every story meets every type of a reader, and that reader can either understand what the story’s trying to convey or not.

But it’s not like Saburou really understood just what made the difference between people who believed in a given story or not. As far as he was concerned, he only believed in stories that he wanted to believe in, saw and heard only what he wanted to see and hear.

That’s why he’d kept believing that Jirou could still be alive.

He knew that this was a lie. He had noticed the contradiction.

When Jirou and Maruo had argued that fateful night, they knocked over the pot with stew meant for dinner, completely ruining the meal that his mother had prepared using all the leftover meat. Then how, after Jirou was thrown into the warehouse, the rest of the family could still have stew for dinner? Certainly they had plenty of vegetables and miso left in the storage, but where did the meat come from?

Saburou knew why his dreams kept showing him Hannibal Lecter. He knew why the poor Mr. Krendler was another him, or rather not another him, but his extension: his elder brother. It was really Jirou, even if he had Saburou’s face -- that was yet another sign of Saburou trying to conceal the truth from himself. Though it wasn’t really self-deception. In a way Jirou really was, as his brother, an extension of him, just like he was Shirou, Ichirou, his father and mother and maybe their fathers and mothers as well. He was his entire family and he consumed his entire family.

The cannibalistic family of Chiuhi living secretly in Nishi Akatsuki.

Jirou had never escaped from the warehouse.

Jirou had been sealed away in the locked room inside them.

Jirou had died. Jirou was still living inside him.

He had wanted to believe the story about how Jirou had escaped, became Kawaji Natsurou, invented Jawakutora. Of course, all these things about Natsurou and Jawakutora had been prepared for Shirou to solve and not for him, but he still wanted to believe the lie more than the truth.

But if he knew the truth, why had he been so convinced that the letter found with Okamoto’s body had been written by Jirou? No doubt it had something to do with being a mystery writer and being used to figuring out a possible rational solution to anything. He could think up so many possibillities, but chose the one in which Jirou had written the letter.

--

Saburou woke up in their living room tied up so he couldn’t move a muscle, as if he was to become someone’s dinner. That was only fair, perhaps. He would be properly punished and forgiven, then disappear completely from this world.

But he wanted to live! Punish him as you will, but let him live! He hadn’t yet made himself worth anything! He still wanted to do so many things, to go to so many places with Yurio! Even if that could be hard, seeing what Yurio had recently done to her father.

But that headless body wasn’t really her father, was it? It’d been Saburou who returned home and got stabbed. Yurio cut his head off and put her father’s wallet into his pocket to conceal the body’s true identity, and Saburou was now a hapless ghost who hadn’t even noticed his own death--

--would be a twist in a third-rate mystery novel and not something that Saburou would care to believe in, not with all the contradictions -- why would the carved out LOVE ME TENDER be a fresh wound? Then again, Yurio had read a lot of mystery novels, so she could think of carving the sentence once more on top of the old one… but no, no matter how much Saburou would like to think otherwise, the one killed had been Yurio’s father.

To tell the truth, he was glad that Yurio had killed her father and gone away. He’d hate to be killed by her. He didn’t want to die.

--

When Kawaji Natsurou = Kawai Youji entered his field of vision, Saburou tried to taunt him, but it mostly fell flat.

“Saburou,” Youji said, “I have lived all these past years just to get a single answer from your family. I’ve been masquarading as Jirou for over ten years, acting and looking like him but under another name. My intention was to lure him out, but oh well, it seems he wouldn’t be fooled just like that. Still, I’ve waited. Do you understand why?... I feared Jirou. I didn’t want to meet him ever again, even if there was something I absolutely had to know.”

Youji pulled out a gun to show that he had a way to defend himself if he met Jirou. Saburou questioned aloud if a gun could do anything against that human whirlwind of violence, but advised to keep the weapon out anyway, since who knew if Jirou wouldn’t suddenly arrive, right?

“Now about this question you want answered,” he added, “I’m afraid that I have no idea where Kazuhiro is. You think that Jirou was involved in his disappearance, don’t you? Well, Jirou is dead.”

Youji didn’t listen. “Jirou murdered him, wanting to use him as a body double for himself. …After I first felt that my brother was dead, I ran away from home, hid, and intended to make Jirou tell me where Kazuhiro was. Even if Jirou wouldn’t appear, I stil enjoyed acting like him…. Maybe more than searching for Kazuhiro.”

After this short speech, Saburou’s hell started.

First Youji gave him strong painkillers so he wouldn’t die from shock. Then using surgical tools he carefully connected the big blood vessels above his thighs creating a bypass, then took to work using an electric saw. In an instant, both of Saburou’s legs were gone. No more walking the mountain paths. No more trying to get himself in shape.

Saburou yelled, “We ate Jirou, goddamn it! Me, Shirou, mom and dad! Mom cut him into pieces and cooked into a stew with miso and vegetables!”

Youji didn’t listen. He took away Saburou’s arms next. No more writing mystery novels with his own two hands, no more basketball, no more Rachmaninoff.

When Youji was about to continue his work, Saburou saw by his side the pale ghost of a child and understood.

“Youji,” he asked, “didn’t you and Kazuhiro wear okappa style hair when you were children?”

The ghost girl wasn’t a girl at all. It was Kawai Kazuhiro wearing the feminine style clothing his parents used to dress him in.

“Kazuhiro is here,” Saburou said.

“Where?”

Where? Saburou remembered the footsteps.

“In the kitchen. Under the floor.”

Youji went to the kitchen and opened the trapdoor. “Here?”

“It’s further underground.” The storage had been renovated along with the kitchen thirteen years ago...

“How do you get there?”

Saburou asked to be moved outside and into the warehouse. If Kazuhiro’s body hadn’t been found during the renovation, it had to be somewhere else than in the small storage, but close enough that the ghost could appear in the house. Some underground space connected with the storage? Even if that space had been filled with dirt since then, it’s not like a ghost would care.

They found a hidden entrance under the giant pillar in the warehouse. Youji vanished inside calling Kazuhiro’s name, leaving Saburou completely alone.

Saburou wondered if he would never see Kazuhiro’s ghost again. The boy had probably shown himself to ask Saburou to find his body. To lead him here.

Let’s think about the reason why Kazuhiro had died under their house. The secret passage had undoubtedly been created by Jirou to escape from the warehouse. Maybe he wanted to one night use it to kill the entire family, which is why he kept it secret from everyone. Being seemingly closed in a warehouse all night would be a great alibi.

Or maybe Jirou planned to use Kazuhiro as his body double and fake his own death, using some sophisticated method to trick the investigators that’d try to analyse the corpse’s DNA and fingerprints. Or maybe he just escaped through the hole in the roof... Or what happened was a completely unplanned incident of getting cooked. Maybe Jirou hesitated just before enacting his plan and had Kazuhiro come to him, and when the family arrived to eat Jirou he tried to hide Kazuhiro underground but someone from the family murdered him too, or maybe Jirou had just killed him so he wouldn’t get in the way...

Or maybe Saburou being a mystery novelist was just obstinately trying to solve mysteries. But since he was already dying, he’d have to give up on reaching the solution. (Snip! Goodbye, stubborn traits of a mystery writer.) There was no need to solve the mystery. He always loved thinking about ridiculous tricks more than obvious solutions, and so the egoism of his love was always at work as well – but no more, seeing as his death was approaching.

Shirou had been right about the note meaning “Death to God Jawakutora”. The letter was probably written by Youji. Saburou didn’t understand why Youji would kill Okachi, but it’s not like he’d have to think about it anymore, as he had already let all his drive to find the answer to the mystery die. Peaceful sleep would come so soon.

But wouldn’t finally finding Kazuhiro instill mercy in Youji? Maybe he would let Saburou live! He didn’t want to die!

But then again, maybe it was better to die than to live without limbs but still with his stupid fucking head filled only with stupid worthless thoughts.

Saburou heard a shriek from the underground passage. What had just happened? Did Youji scream upon finding his brother’s body? Did he see the ghost? Finally Saburou heard quickly approaching footsteps.

“You okay there?” he called.

“I should be the one asking you that,” came the answer.

From the secret passage emerged Okachi.

 --was what couldn’t happen. Okachi was dead. The one standing there was actually another, taller man. He was just wearing Okachi’s skin. Was it Jirou? No, not at all. Then who? The electric saw he was holding was dripping with blood that may have been not just Saburou’s.

“Found you,” the person said. “You don’t have to look so shocked. It’s me!” And he showed his true identity to Saburou.

 Of course, Saburou’s not going to simply write their name down here.

After all, the truth can only be conveyed using lies.

Well then, let’s write some lies.

 The man was obviously Jirou. Jirou was alive! Ha ha ha! What the hell! Apparently Jirou had been hiding somewhere before learning about Youji’s actions and coming back to town to get rid of him. He attacked Shirou’s enemy and now arrived here. Thank you, Jirou! Thank you for saving Saburou’s life! And here he thought he’d eaten Jirou, but that was just a false memory created by his feelings of guilt! Anyway, hurray for being saved!

 --was the lie. In reality, the man was Ichirou. He’d given up on searching for their mother and came back to town, learned about what had happened to Shirou, murdered Okachi, left the letter, and came to save Saburou. Thank you, Ichirou!

 --was another lie. The man was Maruo. Tormented with guilt after what he’d said to Saburou, Maruo came to his help after having taken revenge for Shirou. Thank you, dad! Your little boy forgives you!

  --was yet another lie. The man was Fukushima Manabu. After his mother had died, he assisted Shirou in the search for Jawakutora’s true identity and realized it was Kawaji Natsurou. He killed Okachi both as revenge for Shirou and as a copycat crime to lure Kawaji out, and finally avenged his mother. Congratulations, Fukushima! Just don’t go bragging about it to the police!

 --was a lie as well. The man was the boyfriend of Saburou’s mother. At her request he had both avenged Shirou and arranged the copycat crime, and then killed Kawaji. Thank you, mom’s unnamed boyfriend! Isn’t she a wonderful woman? Please take good care of her!

 --was of course yet another lie. The man was just some guy, no one of much importance. For some unknown reason he had avenged Shirou, wrote the letter and came to Saburou’s help. Thank you, no one special!

 --but oh dear, that was a lie too! This wasn’t a tall man at all, but a girl of tiny posture! She’d found Saburou’s cut off limbs and attached them to her own limbs and came here walking on his legs like on stilts. Thank you, little girl, even if you look a little silly!

 One may create as many lies as they wish.

That’s exactly why Saburou’s able to make his living by writing only lies. Why he’s a man living by creating lies and showing them to people. Lies are his only friends, the kind of friends that you don’t really like at first, but after you hang out with them for some time you realize they’re actually pretty cool dudes, those lies.

 But there’s no use in writing only lies, so Saburou’s going to write about how he truly feels.

He’s glad that he’s alive and that Jirou, Nozaki and Kawaji / Jawakutora / Youji all survived.

When Youji cut off his limbs, maybe all of his stupid fixations and obligations went away with them.

That’s why he can safely say that losing his limbs was, without a doubt, the best thing that has ever happened to him.

If you compare human life to a story, then there’s but one truth that Saburou’s story conveys: that sometimes people are saved by having their limbs cut off. That sometimes the despair of loss and the proximity of death may bring salvation to the soul.

After the loss and despair, Saburou can’t see anything but hope in front of him. Once you’ve reached the bottom, the only way is up.

Yurio disappeared after killing her father, but Saburou is hopeful about her too. Maybe she will one day be caught by the police and put in an institution somewhere, but that’ll certainly be better than the care she had in his house. If she started getting better while staying with him, then she’ll surely make an even greater progress under professional care. Maybe she’ll come visit him one day.

Of course, Yurio will probably forget about him and find love with another guy. If so, then great. That’s how it should have been from the start. They will have his blessing. As long as Yurio’s happy, then he is too.

Then again, maybe Yurio will be restrained and abused in an institution all her life and die in suffering. But if she survives, then she’ll certainly find happiness again. If she continues to suffer even still, then precisely because of the pain she’ll feel happiness whenever it stops for a while. When she dies after a life full of suffering, then he’ll go looking for her in the other world after his own death. He’s not sure whether the age difference will still be there after death and whether his ghost will have his limbs back, but should she still suffer, he’ll embrace her and calm her down with his well and tried “It’s alright, it’s alright, it’s alright”. He won’t run away even if he gets his legs back.

Maybe Yurio is now staying hidden at Shirou’s place. Shirou is a man of many secrets, after all, so maybe he was worried about Saburou being a pedophile and is trying to keep the girl away from him. Ha ha ha, what a strange thing to worry about. Better worry about yourself. About the possibility of getting into a third damn car accident and getting yourself injured yet again.

Or maybe Yurio is under the protection of the man who wore Okachi’s skin, who came to her help just like he helped Saburou. If that man was Jirou, then he should have his mother by his side, and Yurio will be fine being with them. But if so, then Saburou will have to try really hard to find her, as Jirou is wicked smart when it comes to hiding.

 There is hope. A lot of losses too, but Saburou thinks about his hope with happiness. To ensure his hope will prevail he didn’t have his limbs sewn back on, even though it’d be possible. If he let it happen, than maybe all the hope he had gained by giving up his limbs would vanish. You can only gain something by losing something. He’d lost some physical parts and gained something that doesn’t have a physical shape, and he’s fully satisfied with it. Trully happy, la la la, yeah! He can’t exactly dance from joy, but it’s not that important, oh yeah!

Having hidden the bodies of Kazuhiro, Youji and Yurio’s father as well as the bloody tools and his own limbs underground, Saburou now lives alone in the Natsukawa house. He meets ghosts sometimes, but he’s not afraid. He is strong. More than anything, he feels so clearly now that he’s alive. People told him to go die so often, and he himself wished to die so often, that the line between life and death grew faint and he felt like he was lost for so long, but he’s alright now.

Precisely because he thinks he is alive, he really is. Just like thinking that you love is the same as loving. Conversely, doubting your love makes it feel like a fake thing. If you don’t feel like you’re truly living, then you really aren’t. It’s as good as death. It seems everyone and Shirou especially were right when they told him that by not feeling alive, in a way he was already dead.

What Okachi said about the thin line was apparently true. You can’t see it well, but it’s there, and maybe you can spot it better using your feelings. Close your eyes, calm your breathing and look deep within yourself, and you will know what side you’re on.

Knowing that he’s firmly on the side of life, Saburou is going to be alright from now on. After all, he’s Natsukawa Saburou. The many hopes and dreams within him can only come true. Having lost his physical limbs, he will dance using the ones inside him up until the darkness is finally broken by dawn. Alone, but that’s alright. He finally likes himself. Giving up on things he hates, recognizing the beloved things in himself.

No matter what, he’ll always be Saburou. Saburou, Saburou, ha ha ha, Saburou, Dubi-Duba. Yeahhhhh!