glazmind

[glazmind]

My Will Graham in "Feeding Will" ☝️

[glazmind]

Blood really does look black, it's beautiful.

We killed a man together, it's beautiful.

I delighted in killing, it's beautiful.

Now I know who I am, it's beautiful.

I can see what you are, it's beautiful.

I know you love me, it's beautiful.

I love you, and it's beautiful.

It was way beyond a simple sentence, I sometimes find myself repeating it.

[glazmind]

"Slowly, he leaned over the immobilized body, his nose grazing Will’s exposed throat, inhaling that sweetness only Hannibal could detect. His lips followed, touching skin. Without hesitation, he bit down on the Adam’s apple, teeth pressing just hard enough to pierce flesh with sharp canines. Will’s blood welled up, and Hannibal sucked with delight, like sweet wine from a rare spring. The sound of suction, the loud swallows, was obscene. Graham’s body shuddered beneath him, eyes shut, lips parted, overtaken by something he couldn’t name—rage, fear, pleasure. The way his body fed Hannibal in that moment, the way the man seemed so ravenous for him, twisted something inside Will, and it just felt right. "

https://archiveofourown.org/works/65925115/chapters/171777775#workskin

[glazmind]

The fourth chapter of Feeding Will is out! Graham is tonight's special.

"Delicious,” he whispered, voice thick with restrained emotion. Still groggy, Will looked at him with hazy eyes, not fully understanding, though a sudden flush rose to his pale cheeks. Maybe he did understand, maybe his body knew it was being consumed, savored, adored. His right hand felt leaden as he lifted it to the plate, pinching a moist piece of meat between his fingers. He needed to feel more. He offered it to Hannibal’s lips and watched reverence twist into lust. Perhaps he didn’t realize, but offering his own flesh was the ultimate acceptance. The doctor leaned in, took the morsel, gripped Will’s wrist, and licked the blood from his fingers before chewing.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/65925115/chapters/171777775#workskin

[glazmind]

The third chapter of Feeding Will is out! This time, leaning more into the mind games.

“You’ve killed for me,” Will murmured, voice hoarse. “You sculpted nightmares from blood and bone, all to sear your name into my mind.” “To offer you understanding,” Hannibal replied, as though correcting him gently. “The world has been unkind to you, Will. It saw your gift as illness. It demanded control, change. I only ever offered you freedom.” “That’s not freedom,” he snapped, swallowing down the acidic aftertaste. “That’s possession.” “Possession can be sacred. In many cultures, the divine possessed their chosen through visions, ecstasy, suffering. You’re not unfamiliar with this idea. In your dream, you invoked Dante, didn’t you? It was a rite of passage. You met your guide. Your Virgil. You kissed it. You kissed me, Will.”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/65925115/chapters/170977003

[glazmind]

The second chapter of Feeding Will is out! A bit creepy, a bit romantic...

⠀

“She was alive, yes, but I assure you: she didn’t suffer. That’s why you might even mistake her meat for lamb.” Hannibal said it knowing Will’s vivid imagination would do the rest. Will’s breathing turned short, ragged. The room began to spin from the lack of oxygen. His heart pounded so fast it seemed ready to stop. He leaned forward to spit the meat out, but two long fingers invaded his mouth, pushing it back down his throat. Another hand gripped his hair, yanking it back violently to clear the passage. Head tilted, staring up at Hannibal, Will’s teary eyes pleaded for mercy—none came. “You must know I don’t tolerate waste, my dear.”

⠀

https://archiveofourown.org/works/65925115/chapters/170297326#workskin

[glazmind]

"He didn’t resist; his subconscious would do anything to escape the storm of emotions. Without a word, Hannibal pressed his thumb between Will’s lips. A moment of hesitation hung in the air, as if waiting for consent. Then, slowly, he pushed deeper. Will’s eyes shut, tears slipping down his cheeks; perhaps in shame, perhaps in ecstasy. His mouth closed around the thumb, drawing out the remaining blood. This time, the flavor spread over his tongue like thick wine, still metallic, but more inviting."

https://archiveofourown.org/works/65925115/chapters/169837831

[glazmind]

Will Graham has stepped too deeply into the Chesapeake Ripper’s mind. Now, the killer enjoys turning the tables. While witnessing countless agonizing deaths, Will realizes that terror has a delightful taste—and Hannibal Lecter is the maestro behind it all.

Held captive by a meticulous sociopath, Will becomes an unholy experiment: his mind dissected, rearranged, and twisted beyond recognition. How long before the man collapses… and the monster completes his becoming?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/65925115/chapters/169837831

[glazmind]

In a yearning disguised as violence, Hannibal kills to ease the pain of Will’s absence. What he doesn’t know is that it is Will who orchestrates these absences—a sadistic form of voyeurism, meant to witness the collapse of the man he loves.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/65681914

"Like a selfish god who demands sacrifice when it suits him, Hannibal demands suffering every time Will leaves. Bodies are dragged to the kitchen counter, always the kitchen, for convenience; and always alive, so their eyes, wide with terror, can face the misunderstood creature of the underworld who condemns them. On these moments, taste is the only addiction capable of saving him from the eternal solitude of his disturbed mind."

[glazmind]

After Mizumono, Will stops lying to himself. He wants Hannibal to eat him alive, slowly, like a prayer.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/65634292

In Greek mythology, Limos is the personification of famine or hunger.

I’m a little obsessed with the idea that Will was born to be devoured by his lover. His absence gnaws at Hannibal’s insides like Limos itself, and he’s totally aware of it. This shortfic offers a glimpse into Will's desire to feed Hannibal with his body in the most literal sense possible.

[glazmind]

The heat radiating from my head is ostentatious, like the relentless midday sun blazing in the sky. Dr. Lecter speaks to me, tends to me with gentle eyes and soft hands, incapable of harming himself. I wonder: how does Achilles touch the sun without burning? Sometimes, I feel all his efforts to contain the solar flares in my mind are nothing more than a well-orchestrated play, where the curtain, thick and velvety, is draped over my liquefied, distilled body as he watches me convulse into unconsciousness. Time and reality warp under your care, but please, don’t lie to me. Don’t strip me of the last certainty tethering me to the surface. The sun’s curse is a hellfire unsealed; whoever dwells here must be ice revealed.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/65622415/chapters/168962956

Note: I'm Glazmind on AO3.

[glazmind]

The memories run beneath his tongue, converted into sweet broth and warm matter. As he eats, he gains access to the minds that once filled him with repulsion, and every fiber reveals a new verse. It is not hunger. It is liturgy. There is an urgency to witness the immediacy of childhood, adolescent rebellion, and the latent fear that guides all lost adults. Skin, muscle, and organs: everything Hannibal taught him to admire with his palate, Will swallows with devotion. The way to venerate the man who keeps him under his dominion is to replicate his true nature, without the guilt and demerit of the heavy armor he carried for so many years. Now, he can be violent, because that is the only thing that has ever felt normal to him: the structure of understanding the violence. With open eyes and head held high, between one cut and another, he says: "I want to prepare him with fresh herbs next time", with the cunning of a fisherman.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/65621875

Note: I'm Glazmind on AO3.

[glazmind]

The apocalypse began the moment we met. The end of the world. The unbearable noise of all those who should not be here besides us; eternal, immutable, and ravenous for each other. Our oblique ritual reiterates the passion that shall never end. Lo, I carry your entire existence embedded within me. You offer your blood beneath the moonlight, and I shall drink it as holy wine. The strands of your flesh reach the depths of my throat like a sacred host, offered with the devotion of a vicar of Christ. And who am I, in extraordinary rapture, to deny your most beautiful desires? Your breakfast shall always be served with parts of me, so that, even from afar, I may dwell within you. So, devour me daily, that we may never be apart. There is no religion more sacred, nor God more generous, for by virtue I shall march over the scalding bodies of the Final Judgment until I find you.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/65621431

Note: I'm Glazmind on AO3.