savantisms-blog

[savantisms-blog]

[savantisms-blog]

Jack : Hannibal can you tell everyone what’s is in this?

Hannibal :

[savantisms-blog]

[savantisms-blog]

out of context: will graham (season 2)

[savantisms-blog]

Could he daily feel a stab of hunger for you and find nourishment at the very sight of you?

 Yes.

[savantisms-blog]

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Nowhere.”

More of my post-fall AU where Hannibal returns to Italy with Will as his companion instead of Bedelia. There are motorcycles and katanas and they just can’t get enough of each other - the standard honeymoon phase, really.

[savantisms-blog]

bonebaker·:

The slowing pace of her morning rush granted the baker a quick sigh of relief. With businessmen hurried out the door with their fresh vanilla lattes and college students ordering crepes and coffee; the baker found herself in a moment of silence. The register didn’t need to ring up a single order as the shop remained empty. As she gave a quick prayer of GRACE; the baker quickly took out her lunch and sat herself on a stool behind the counter with her favorite gossip magazine. No matter how SERIOUS her other affairs were; there was always time to find out the latest bullshit going on in Hollywood. 

Soon the sound of a bell rang over the door to her shop; causing her to stop in her tracks. Blue eyes froze like a deer in headlights. She caught herself mid bite; nearly allowing food to stumble out of her bite. Not many things scared her; but the stupid little DING of a new customer certainly gave her heart a quick jump.Micha turned her attention to the customer as she attempted to finish her mid-bite. The day was slow and dragged on for what felt like hours; she figured a quick lunch break might fuel her for the rest of her shift. His timing, despite not being perfect certainly was not hated.  As she wiped the sides of her mouth; she took a sip of her water before clearing her throat. The brunette took  quick glance in the mirror to check her smile and then was her attention fully on the man.

The baker was grateful she had a customer to tend to. Part of her wondered if he noticed her break; or maybe he just enjoyed being straight to the point. Either way, she silently cursed at her for such a bad impression. She knew there was still time to save the transaction. 

“ Ah, well…this friend. How close are you to her? Sweets are good for any age. I can whip up chocolate covered strawberries if it’s a romantic kind of deal, or I highly recommend the marble banana bread, if you just want a simpler kind of gift.” 

@savantisms·

Will had noticed her preoccupation, but he didn’t mind. She was only human, like him, and he wasn’t the type of customer to be pushy over something as simple as a small wait. It was only him in the shop, so she only had to worry about helping him. 

“I don’t- I don’t think something romantic would be a good idea, I don’t want to give her a bad impression. We’re colleagues, but we only just started properly working together recently. Before that, we’ve just taught in similar fields and she’d watch over my classes from time to time.” He paused and shook his head. 

“But you don’t need to know all of that. I do know she likes things with lemon in them, so maybe something along those lines?” He said, glancing around the shop. Now came the social anxiety of making purchases. He didn’t want to inconvenience her, and the banana bread she’d recommended sounded lovely, but he wanted something special. Special, but not too romantic.

“I will take the banana bread for myself, though.”

[savantisms-blog]

raudrakos·:

He sees the tension in Will’s shoulders, the careful way he holds himself all together – a bundle of nervous energy.  A curious eye follows him inside, observes him.  It’s easily surmised that whatever disturbs his sleeping mind must be pressing, if it couldn’t wait until their next session.  Hannibal closes the door behind them.

“ – I’m more than happy to talk to you about them, Will … would you like something to drink ?  To help you relax … ? “  He doesn’t move to touch Will without invitation, but gestures through the foyer into the dining room, and the kitchen beyond there. 

“ Do you recall what it is about these night terrors that disturbs your sleep ? “ 

In his mind, something like whiskey sounded fantastic right now. He already tried that, though, and he knew it wouldn’t do much good. Besides, he had to drive home. The next logical step would be an herbal tea of some kind. Would Hannibal have that? Of course he would, this was Hannibal after all. Hannibal prided himself on having the finest things.

“Chamomile tea would do, or lavender if you have it.” Will takes note of the gesture as he speaks and slowly makes his way into the kitchen. He was still a bit disoriented from his sleep, like he was fighting to swim through a wall of fog, despite the fact he’d been awake for over an hour.

“I wake up from my dreams, and it feels like I’ve been screaming. My throat hurts and the dogs are all scared. But I can’t move. I’m fighting to gain control of my body, and I feel this horrible weight on my chest. Sometimes, I--”

He didn’t want to sound crazy, but there wasn’t much of a choice at this point. He could either speak the truth about this, or let the anxiety consume him.

“Sometimes I see things.”

[savantisms-blog]

ooc ;

     sorry about my absence guys, finals are coming up and i’ve been really stressed. i’m going to get to a few replies tonight and be on when i can. you can reach me ooc on d/iscord at stalecokezero#6618

[savantisms-blog]

ashesraised·:

         HEY GUYS, i’m about to be really annoying.

listen, i feel really bad about doing this, but it has come to my attention that i am the only person in my house that cares if my dog dies or not. she has a tumor and it is growing really fucking fast, so time is running out to get this taken care of. my mom told me she’s considering surrendering to the animal shelter (uh, the one i worked at, remember them?) and i know that if she does that, they’re not gonna take the time to even bother helping her. they’ll just put her down. I DON’T WANT HER TO DIE. and as all of you know, i lost my job earlier this year and i have been too mentally incapable of getting a new one at the moment. so, uh, here i am… asking for your help. i don’t wanna have to do this, but i… really don’t have much of a choice. with the tumor growing as fast as it is, there’s a possibility of her having to go through chemo. i don’t feel comfortable giving out my paypal, so i’ve made a gofundme to help fund for this. if you can’t donate, PLEASE, at least, reblog this for me. i’ve already lost a dog this past year due to an untreated tumor, and i can’t go through that again, i just can’t. please help me.

[ CLICK HERE TO GO TO GOFUNDME ]

i’m going to add two more things here: one is for an alternate to gofundme and another is for an important petition against the shelter i worked for, to help get them investigated by the state PROPERLY. anyway, the link for the petition is below. information on it and the shelter can be read inside the petition. i DID NOT mention the discrimination i had dealt with, to keep myself as anonymous as possible. that will be addressed at a later time. thanks !

         [ CLICK HERE FOR THE PETITION ]

              I NOW HAVE VENMO @ heyyoshane !

[savantisms-blog]

ooc ;

     turns out the key to blazing through replies is      a: putting off other important shit like emails & signing up for summer classes      b: listening to the captain marvel soundtrack

     anyway! i’ve replied to everyone in my drafts except for one person who i’ve messaged and will be replying to later. if i’ve missed your reply to our thread please please PLEASE let me know! i feel like i’ve definitely missed out on some and tumblr has eaten the notifications.

[savantisms-blog]

shcsallrightnow‌:

Arching a brow, Abigail leaned on her palms against the picnic table, watching Will with a hint of wry amusement. “I didn’t realize I’d be getting ‘performance art’ out of the deal,” she said, indicating the sandwiches. “Do you need any help? I feel weird just watching…”

She’d “just watched” with Hannibal, but he was also a man who seemed to consider his kitchen sacred, and she doubted that he would’ve wished for her assistance. Growing up, she’d been chastised for being idle, so it was a trait that had carried on (and to the point of discomfort).

When Will gave (or rather, attempted) a stern look at Winston, Abigail breathed a faux gasp and stooped over to pet the begging dog. “Don’t worry. I’ll give you some of mine,” she assured him. Will handed her a bag of treats, and Winston’s eyes immediately began to dance with recognition. He tried to leap up, but Abigail immediately stepped back.

“Ah-ah!” she chided. Now holding a treat over his head, she waited until Winston patiently sat back down and wagged his tail. “Good boy,” she praised, beaming while handing over the morsel. Winston eagerly snatched the treat and trotted off to rest under the bench, still chewing noisily as Abigail closed up the bag. “Marissa used to have a dog,” she said. “It’s not quite the same as having your own, but she let me teach Daisy some tricks on occasion. I wonder if she’s with Marissa’s mom or dad now…”

Not wanting to dwell on her dead best friend, Abigail swallowed the lump in her throat, and gratefully moved on to Will’s next offered distraction. With a plate now set in front of her, her stomach gave a responding rumble and she flushed, not having realized how hungry she was. “It looks great,” she assured him. “Besides, I can’t remember the last time I had a good meal…” Technically, she could, but Will didn’t need to know about the time she’d been high as a kite.

Pulling her plate in towards herself, she kept her eyes on the food and nodded. “He has, yes…at least once a week.” Which is more than can be said for you.

Bitterness wasn’t really her arsenal of choice, but since Will had more or less avoided her until now, she couldn’t help but be leery with suspicion. After all, he worked with the Bureau… Had Jack asked Will to pump her for information? To pretend he cared until she confessed?

With her mouth forming into a thin, grim little line, Abigail shrugged and stirred her spoon around in the soup. “Hannibal is strange, and he likes to believe he’s helping, but…” No. She couldn’t quite bring herself to say it. After all, if she confessed to him assisting her with Boyle, that’d mean giving herself up too. And given Will’s profession, she wasn’t so sure she could count on him to keep her safe.

Will loved watching her interact with Winston, but knew the brightness of this moment wouldn’t last long. They were doomed to a gloomy life, and a part of him wondered if hers would ever be the same. How could she move forward? She’d aided her father in his horrid crimes. She had no other choice, certainly, but it would still leave mark. Not only that, but she’d been faced with her own death more than once, and she had to cope with the death of her mother & best friend. He didn’t want to pry too deeply into her mind, but he knew this wasn’t easy for her.

So, Hannibal was visiting quite frequently. Socializing came more easily to the psychiatrist, though Will suspected he may also be prodding Abigail for bits of information to give him insight into her mind. It was in the man’s nature, he couldn’t help it.

“He has a bit more free time, I suppose. He doesn’t have to be at every single one of these crime scenes, though he does show up more often than expected.” He sighed and paused, eating a small bite of his sandwhich. He wasn’t particularly hungry and he’d mostly brought the food for her.

“I can agree that he’s strange,” Will said, taking a sip of his drink. “And he certainly likes to believe he’s helping. These days I find my therapy sessions with him to be long and drawn out dramas, with the both of us competing to see who can be the most poetic. He’s a big fan of gilded speech.”

He went silent, trying to think of what to say next. A feeling of remorse washed over him as he considered the fact that he didn’t visit Abigail as much as he should. There was only so much energy to spare in his daily life, and lately sleep had been getting more and more difficult. He was lucky if he could get six hours a night.

“Look, I’m sorry I haven’t come to visit much. Jack has just--” he paused, looking over at Winston for a moment. “Well, he’s had me on a very tight leash.”

[savantisms-blog]

Will looked over at the driver and then turned back to her and stiffened, immediately becoming uncomfortable with her body language. He had barely just met this woman, though clearly he’d made an impression. He watched her ride off before turning back to the police officers at the scene. He directed them to check with local hospital morgues, not just the county. It would raise suspicion for his new acquaintance if he directed them to only one location.

He appraised the scene one last time, checking back in with forensics, before getting into his rental car and driving off. Several hours and a few detours around the city later, he was back at his motel. A quick message to one of the local officers let him know exactly where he could find the Mayfair residence, and he found himself somewhat nervous.

It wasn’t just the woman he’d met, though sher certainly put him on edge, but it was something about this case. He’d never seen anything like it before and it just didn’t sit right with him. 

Another hour and he was in front of the house in question. He pulled up the driveaway, peering out at the foreboding windows of the building. It was familiar New Orleans architecture but the energy of the place seemed different and made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

Will made his way up to the font door, knocking lightly.  He hadn’t contacted her lawyers, so certainly she’d be expecting him. He wanted to dive in and get this over with, so he could go back to anxiously pacing his motel room while he pondering the intricacies of this case.

“I don’t care about what the public knows, I just want him gone.” She replied. “And if there was more I could give you, I would tell you. Unfortunately, he didn’t give the victim his real name.” She sighed and rubbed her eyes again. “Look, I need to get out of here. I’ve got some place to be and if I’m lucky I’ll still be able to get a shower in. If you suspect me of something, contact my lawyers. If not, come by the house any time after six if you want to talk off the record.”

She didn’t need to give him the name of her lawyers, or the house address. The law firm of Mayfair & Mayfair was notorious in the city for never losing a case. As for the house, the First Street property had been surrounded by speculation since it was built. Everyone in New Orleans knew where to find the Mayfairs, because they plastered their name on everything they touched and stirred up trouble wherever they went. 

There was a distinctive honk and Mona looked towards it, seeing her driver pulling up at the end of the street. She looked back to Will, “County Hospital Morgue.” She repeated. She looked over his face and wavered on her feet a bit like she might be intending to kiss him before thinking better of it. “Go get him, cher.” She whispered before turning and sprinting to the car, trying to avoid the photographers before getting in. The car drove off a few moments later, Mona in the backseat trying to see what had leaked online so far.

[savantisms-blog]

FIVE SENSES AESTHETICS.

bold what applies to your muse  /  repost, don’t reblog!

Will Graham

tagged by: @murdersanctum tagging: all of my followers!

𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓.    SMALL TOWNS.  BIG CITIES.   SIX THIRTY CURFEWS.   LIGHTS THAT TAKE THE PLACE OF STARS.  BLANKET NESTS.   LIGHT THROUGH THE BLINDS AS A WAKEUP CALL. FOUND FAMILY.  FINDING A SINGLE STAR IN THE MIDDLE OF NEW YORK CITY.   WINDOW SHOPPING.   WATCHING SOMETHING TERRIBLE AND ENJOYING IT.   GROWING NUMB TO THE SIGHT OF INJUSTICE.   WILTED FLOWERS.  FADED CARICATURES.   BRIGHT, BOLD COLOURS.

𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃.   CRICKETS AND LIGHTNING BUGS. CAR ENGINES AND A/C UNITS.   A PHONE CALL TO MOM/DAD.   LAUGHING WITH FRIENDS.   JOKES THAT ARE SO BAD YOU HAVE TO LAUGH. THE CLICKING OF COMPUTER KEYS.   NOISE CANCELLING HEADPHONES.   DEAFENING GUNFIRE.  THE SOUND OF SILENCE.   MUFFLED MUSIC FROM ANOTHER ROOM.   DRUMMING FINGERTIPS ON A TABLE.   CLICKING OF PENS.  LISTENING TO A CLOCK AND SWEARING THE TICKS GET SLOWER.   RINGING IN THE EARS.  THE VOICE OF SOMEONE YOU LOVE. PITCH SHIFTED SONGS.

𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇.   BEING HELD CLOSE DURING A LONG NIGHT.   FLEETING REASSURANCES. HOLDING HANDS WHEN YOU’RE SCARED.   BRUSHING FINGERS THROUGH STRANDS OF HAIR. FRESHLY DRIED CLOTHES.  BRUISES ON YOUR KNUCKLES.  SILK AND SATIN.   YOUR FAVOURITE PET’S FUR OR FEATHER.  WRINGING YOUR HANDS ANXIOUSLY.   SNUGGLES.  COMFORTERS IN THE DEAD OF WINTER.   NAILS AGAINST SKIN. COLD METAL. LEATHER IN SUMMER.

𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄. COFFEE/TEA IN THE MORNING. TEA IN THE EVENING.   BUBBLEGUM THAT LOST ITS FLAVOUR.  ALCOHOL BURNING THE BACK OF YOUR THROAT.   HOMEMADE COOKING.   BLOOD IN YOUR MOUTH.  STALE AIR.   MINT.  FRESH VEGETABLES.  THE PROCESSED TASTE OF CITRUS CANDY.  THE FIRST MEAL YOU COOK BY YOURSELF THAT TASTES GOOD.  FOREIGN SWEETS. FAST FOOD. BITTERSWEET. SOUR.  SPICY.  SWEET.   BITTER. TOO MUCH SALT ON FRIES.

𝐒𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐋. MORNING GLORIES AND HONEYSUCKLES.   FRESHLY CUT GRASS.   HOT CHOCOLATE IN THE MIDDLE OF WINTER.   NAIL POLISH.   HOSPITAL ROOMS.  SMOKE. HAIR SPRAY.   YOUR FAVORITE SHAMPOO/CONDITIONER.   THE SCENT OF HOME.    PERFUME.  COLOGNE.   MINT.   SOMETHING BURNING.   WET DOGS.   COPPER.   METAL.   LEATHER.  UNEMPTIED ASHTRAYS.  SOMETHING FAMILIAR YET DIFFERENT.  CAMPFIRES.

[savantisms-blog]

character flaws.

REPOST. DON’T REBLOG. Bold the ones that always apply to your character. Italicize the ones that sometimes apply to your character.

absent-minded | abusive | addict | aggressive | aimless | alcoholic | anxious | arrogant | audacious | bad liar | bigmouth | bigot | blindly obedient | blunt | callous | childish | chronic heroism | clingy | clumsy | cocky | competitive | corrupt | cowardly | cruel | cynical | delinquent | delusional | dependent | depressed | deranged | disloyal | ditzy | egotistical | envious | erratic | fickle | finicky | flaky | frail | fraudulent | guilt complex | gloomy | gluttonous | gossiper | gruff | gullible | hedonistic | humorless | hypochondriac | hypocritical | idealist | idiotic | ignorant | immature | impatient | incompetent | indecisive |insecure | insensitive | lazy | lewd | liar | lustful | manipulative | masochistic | meddlesome | melodramatic | money-loving | moody | naive | nervous | nosy | ornery |  overprotective | overly sensitive | paranoid | passive-aggressive | perfectionist | pessmist | petty | power-hungry | proud | pushover | reckless | reclusive | remorseless | rigorous | sadistic | sarcastic | senile | selfish | self-martyr| shallow | sociopathic | sore loser | spineless | spiteful | spoiled | stubborn | tactless | temperamental | timid | tone-deaf | traitorous | unathletic | ungracious | unlucky | unsophisticated | untrustworthy | vain | withdrawn | workaholic

tagged by: @crueltygiven tagging: @murdersanctum & anyone else who wants to do it!

[savantisms-blog]

psa on posting speed;

i am a slow roleplayer. not only do i get distracted easily, i get overwhelmed easily. sometimes i can’t talk and do drafts at the same time so i am sorry if i ignore your message. i am deliberate and methodical with every word choice. i like to spend my time on my writing and getting to that emotional level within myself to evoke a proper response with each reply. i’m not good at whipping out thread after thread. i never have been. i’m sorry if that’s the way you roleplay and i don’t match up, but i like to think the quality of the writing makes up for my lack of speed. thank you so much!

[savantisms-blog]