#Slasher TV

[richietoazier]

THE WOMEN OF SLASHER: FLESH & BLOOD

“ who (is the) pretty lady? ”

[storytime-reviews]

Slasher TV Series Review

Slasher is an anthology slasher horror television series. Each season is centered on a masked killer with an unknown motive for killing their victims. The first season, retroactively subtitled The Executioner, centered on a mysterious figure who terrorizes the fictional town of Waterbury, Canada. The second season, subtitled Guilty Party, follows a group of former summer camp counselors who return to an isolated campground in order to retrieve the body of a murder they committed, before being targeted, one by one, by an unknown killer. The third season, Solstice, is centered on a group of neighbors who are targeted during the summer solstice period due to their complicity in not saving a murder victim who was killed one year earlier in front of their apartment complex.

I recently binged the first three seasons of Slasher, and was surprised by how much I loved it. I’m not a huge horror aficionado, however I do enjoy a good horror movie and thought this might pass the time. I was easily drawn in by the characters and narratives, and I thought it was really cool that quite a few cast members are used in multiple seasons, playing different characters.

Each season starts similarly – an unknown killer starts murdering people left and right, but there is often some kind of pattern to it. In season 1, Katie McGrath’s character returns to her home town, where her parents were murdered, and a new killer dons the mask of that killer and bases his murders on the seven deadly sins. In season 2, former friends who killed someone five years ago are targeted, whilst in season 3 residents of a certain apartment building are targeted a year after the death of one of their own.

I absolutely loved trying to figure out the patterns and who would be next – as well as the identity of the killer. There are always a handful of clues, but there are also some pretty incredible twists and reveals that keep things particularly interesting. The narrative works so well precisely because you cannot help but keep asking these questions, whilst the characters themselves are compelling enough to hold your interest until those questions are ultimately answered. Each season reveals the killer at least one episode before the end, allowing for some time to delve into the killer’s motives. I wasn’t just engrossed by trying to put the puzzle pieces together, I was genuinely invested in each story and its characters.

A warning – the kills can get quite gory, and season 3 in particular is quite graphic. So if you’re easily grossed out by blood and gore, and especially theatrical and gruesome murders, then I’d give this show a miss. If you enjoy slasher type horror, I would recommend it.

[manogirl]

I'm halfway to deciding that I want to binge the last three eps of DFF together instead of watching week-to-week. As this is my first slasher ever, I'm a little nervous if I wait a week in between shows it'll give my brain time to uh, be a little bitch about it. (Love you, brain! Just don't trust you!)

I keep wavering because I want to watch episode 10 today, but I also...don't.

[texaschainsawmascara]

Slasher 2x02

[horrorcryingscreencaps]

[fabledenigmaeragif]

Jefferson Brown

In the Source Link, you will find a complete gif pack of Jefferson Brown in Slasher: Ripper. Jefferson played the role of Horatio Dixon.

Horatio Dixon was a street pimp, who had a run in with the henchmen of Basil Garvey. He is brutally murdered in the first episode, however appears in later episodes to explain why the Widow does what she does. Jefferson is the one of three actors to appear in someway in all five seasons, he is the only male. In Slasher: The Executioner, he played Trent McBride. In Slasher: Guilty Party, he played Gene, the delivery guy for the commune. In Slasher: Solstice, he played Wyatt. In Slasher: Flesh and Blood, he played sailor Merle. *This pack contains episodes 1 - 5, a work in progress. Episode 1 is finished* Contains spoilers and scenes of brutal horror.

Source - FabledEnigma

[happy74827]

A New Moon

[Dexter Morgan x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Despite his gut telling him he shouldn’t, Dexter can’t help but fall deeper into the trap of his own emotions. And the more time he spends with you, the more he starts to realize what exactly those emotions are. {GIF Creds: beautifulguycollector}

WC: 2889

Category: Slight Lime/Spice, Friends to Lovers + Forbidden Love (if you squint) Tropes

Gotta keep this fandom alive somehow 🥲 (also… why are titles so hard to write? That and the synopsis are harder to write than the actual fic)

『••✎••』

You were too good for him. Plain and simple. You were a smart, beautiful, hard-working woman who had goals and dreams. He was a cold-blooded killer. Not to say that he hadn't been there for you, though. The two of you had been friends since… well, a while. A long while.

He couldn't quite pinpoint the moment he started to notice the changes in your relationship. It was a slow, subtle buildup, and the first time you called him your friend, Dexter thought nothing of it. The second time, it made him pause, but not enough for him to consider what the implications of you saying that to him could mean.

But when you said it again and again and again, he realized the meaning behind your words, the affection they held. Dexter couldn't say that he was particularly close to many people. There were a select few he'd consider his friends, but he wasn’t emotionally invested in any of them. And he didn't think he was invested in you, either.

But maybe he was.

Debs was different, and it made him question how much he was supposed to care about someone. But that was his sister, the one person in the world who loved him unconditionally. That reason alone made his relationship with Deb unique. He was sure of that.

The same went with Brian—his brother, as it turned out. And Harrison, his son. Dexter felt things for those people, but they were different. Those were family, the people he was genetically tied to. Of course, he would care about them.

But you weren't family, and yet he still cared about you. It was a different kind of caring. And it was confusing. Dexter had convinced himself for years that he was a high-functioning sociopath, but lately…

Lately, he was beginning to question if that was true. Simple glances from you could bring an unwelcome smile to his lips. And when he heard the sound of your voice, he could feel his chest getting warm. It was a nice feeling, something he'd only experienced briefly with Rita, but then, that relationship was different too.

It was hard to put his finger on it, but being with you was just… easy. And it didn't feel like work. There was no pretending. Dexter didn't have to act when he was around you. He didn't need to try to be someone he wasn't. It was the real him.

It was terrifying.

Because now, as he sat on your couch, watching as you moved gracefully around your small apartment, the feeling was back, and he didn't know how to deal with it.

He should have been home with Harrison, but the little boy was staying over at Debra’s tonight, so he didn't have any responsibilities. The passenger within him didn’t see it as a problem either, considering he’d just recently “disposed" his latest target.

It was nice, Dexter decided, to relax every once in a while. Work and family didn't give him a lot of opportunities to do so, and now that the two were temporarily taken care of, he felt he deserved to be lazy for a bit.

You didn’t have a TV in your living room, so the two of you settled for movies. Dexter didn’t really have a preference for them. He could watch a comedy, action, drama, or horror and not feel strongly for or against any of them.

Apparently, you didn't mind what he watched either because he could see the spark of excitement in your eyes when you pulled out the case for one of the worst comedy films Dexter had ever seen.

He'd seen it before. Not with you, one of the movies Vince shoved down his throat when he planned a night out with him, Angel, and Quinn.

It wasn't his favorite, not by a long shot, but the grin on your face and the way you eagerly skipped to the DVD player, set the disk inside, and closed the hatch made him bite his tongue.

Dexter had learned a long time ago that you were a very expressive person. And even though most of the time your feelings weren't displayed on your face, your eyes told another story. Such opposites to his own, Dexter often found himself fascinated by the light they held.

You had a passion for life that was rare, and it drew him in. It was a quality he lacked, and he could see it in everything you did. Whether it was talking about the newest book you read or making coffee, you put all of yourself into your actions.

It was something that Dexter had never understood. How could you have such a strong sense of self? Didn't it get tiring, having to live up to a standard of being so… so good?

But then again, you'd always been better than him. He might’ve been smarter in some regards, but what was intelligence if it didn't come from a place of morality? You were better, purer than him. He knew it, and everyone else did, too, even if they weren’t aware of how pure he wasn’t

That's why this was so wrong. This thing that had been going on for the past couple of months between the two of you. The subtle touches, the longing stares, the late-night calls. It was all wrong.

You were similar to Rita in some ways. You were kind and compassionate, always looking for the good in others. You had a knack for taking care of people, whether they needed it or not.

Dexter could tell that was your nature, and it was one of the things that initially attracted him to you. All the things he lacked, you had. But that didn't mean that you could replace Rita. He didn’t want you to.

And that was the difference. While he may have found qualities in you that resembled the ones he'd found in Rita, you were not her. Rita was gone, and it was his fault. She didn’t deserve to die, and yet she did. She deserved to grow old, to see Harrison grow up.

She deserved better.

The same went for you. You didn’t deserve a monster like him. The more he thought about it, the more he came to the conclusion that he should stay away. It was for the best of both of you.

And yet he was here. On your couch, watching a shitty movie and drinking the beer you'd offered him. Because, despite his efforts, he couldn't keep his distance from you.

He should've known. When it came to you, Dexter didn't have a choice.

His gaze drifted over to your form as you sat down beside him. You were smiling, your eyes bright and focused on the television. A lock of hair fell across your face, and you pushed it back, the sleeve of your hoodie falling down slightly.

Dexter had never been so tempted to reach out and touch someone in his life.

It was a feeling that had been creeping up on him the last few weeks, and now, sitting with you, watching a bad movie, it was at an all-time high. He'd never craved intimacy. But there was something about you, a pull that he couldn't deny.

It gave him a sick feeling in his stomach. Reminded him of that need with Lila. God, Lila. What a mess that had turned out to be. Another thing to add to his growing list of mistakes.

And yet, the longer he stared, the more he found himself leaning forward. He didn’t register what he was doing until his lips were a hair width away from yours.

You froze but didn't move away. The only indication that you were startled was the widening of your eyes. They bored into his, unflinching. He could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears.

He was scared. Scared? Yes. That was what he was feeling. Why? He didn't know. Fear was new. It was a feeling reserved for Deb and sometimes his son, but even then, it was different.

But as Dexter gazed at you, so close and so beautiful, the fear melted away. It was replaced by a warmth that he was quickly becoming familiar with. It made his body thrum and his blood rush. It made him feel alive.

You were the first one to make a move. Well, not really a move, just the smallest shift forward, and then you were breathing the same air as him. You weren't kissing. You were just… waiting. Waiting for him to make the final move.

It was like an unspoken rule between the two of you, the power dynamic. He was the dominant one, and you were the submissive. You had never fought against it. You were a people pleaser, and he knew that.

It was one of the reasons he knew this was wrong. Because he couldn't stop, and you would never ask him to. Even now, as he hesitated, you waited patiently. You trusted him.

Why did you have to trust him? Why couldn't you be more selfish, more like him?

But deep down, Dexter knew that it wasn't your nature. You couldn't change, not any more than he could.

So, after another agonizing second, he closed the distance between you.

It was gentle, the way his lips pressed against yours. A stark contrast to the usual forcefulness he applied when taking his victims. No, with you, he was careful. Almost timid.

Your lips were soft and smooth, and the kiss was sweet. Nothing more than a simple caress. Dexter didn’t expect the tingling sensation it would cause, but the slight brush of your mouth sent shivers down his spine.

The kiss was short and chaste, but it was enough to leave him feeling dizzy. The heat spread through him, from the tips of his toes all the way to his cheeks.

Dexter pulled back, and you stared at him. His breath hitched in his throat at the look in your eyes. There was something there, something that mirrored his own emotions.

Was it possible? Was he really capable of such intense emotion?

Maybe he was.

You didn’t move. It was like time had stopped, and the only sound that could be heard was his own uneven breathing. That, and the movie playing in the background, which was forgotten as soon as your lips touched.

The urge to reach out and grab you was there. He could feel the need deep in his bones, in his soul. But instead, Dexter sat, staring. Staring into the eyes of the woman who had somehow managed to break down all the walls he'd spent his life building.

You didn't speak. There was nothing to say. No words could describe the feelings that had surfaced between the two of you. So, instead, you smiled. A simple, beautiful smile that had him feeling weak.

He could have stayed there forever, just looking at you, taking in the beauty that was you. It was a new experience for him, and it was nice.

“Debra is going to be pissed," you finally said, breaking the silence. “I’ll be bullied into telling her every detail."

He blinked. Once. Twice. Then, his lips curled up in amusement. It was true. Eventually, she’ll figure it out. Maybe she already knew but was waiting for confirmation. Debra was good at figuring out things, even if it wasn’t the most obvious answer.

His sister was good at a lot of things, like being a detective. And, apparently, being an interfering matchmaking nuisance.

At least she wouldn’t call you the things she called Lila.

The thought made him chuckle, and you looked at him in confusion, but it would have to stay a mystery to you. For what was life without a few private jokes between siblings, right?

You didn’t press for answers, though. You did what you’ve always done and waited for him—waited for him as if it was his turn in Chess.

And he did the only thing he could think to do. He kissed you again. And again. And again. And again. Until he had you pinned beneath him, your arms around his neck, and your breath coming out in heavy gasps.

The kisses were still innocent, just as you were. But he could feel the passion behind them, the hunger. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt that. It had been a long, long time.

But the longer he kissed you, the more the heat grew, and soon, he was lost in the sensation. Your hands found their way into his hair, and you tugged at the strands. His heart was racing, and the sound of his own ragged breathing filled his ears.

It was exhilarating.

Your lips parted, allowing his tongue to slip inside, and the innocence was gone. Replaced by a desire that left him trembling. The feeling of your tongue against his, the taste of you on his lips, the smell of your shampoo mixed with your unique scent—it was all intoxicating.

The movie continued to play in the background, forgotten as you pulled him closer. The warmth in his chest intensified, and Dexter didn't fight it. Instead, he embraced it. He gave in to his emotions and let himself feel.

He didn’t go too far; he knew you weren't ready for that yet. The craving was there, and it was strong, but the moment wasn’t right. Instead, he satisfied himself by touching your skin, mapping out every inch of it, memorizing the way it felt under his fingertips.

And, when you finally pulled away, breathless and flushed, he held onto you, refusing to let go. His eyes searched yours, searching for something. Anything. He didn’t know what he was looking for, but whatever it was, he didn’t find it.

He mostly saw fear, anger, and some regret when he had them pinned down beneath him. Of course, that was usually the case with his victims. Fear, anger, and regret were normal emotions—a reaction to being trapped by their own demise.

Having someone look up at him with emotions on the other side of the spectrum was different. Not a bad different, just... different.

Rita had been the first to look at him like that. Lumen did, too, once upon a time. And Lila, well, her emotions were never consistent.

But you? You looked up at him with an expression that was all too familiar and yet not quite the same. Your eyes were full of affection and desire, yes. But they were also filled with something else. Something he couldn't place.

Something he couldn’t understand.

"Dex,” your voice was so soft, a whisper. He almost didn’t hear it, and yet, he felt it. He felt the way his name rolled off your tongue, and it was like music to his ears.

"Yeah?" he whispered back. He didn’t know why he did that; it wasn't like the two of you were speaking in a library or something. Maybe it was the way the light danced in your eyes, the way the colors reflected off the white walls, casting an ethereal glow.

"I didn’t expect you to be… like this," you murmured. You ran a finger over his cheek, down to his jawline. He swallowed thickly. He could feel his pulse quicken.

"Like what?" he asked, his voice rough.

"Not bad," you replied. Your lips curved up, and his eyes were drawn to them. They were red and swollen from kissing, and it was such a contrast to the pale skin of your face.

"You think I'm not bad?" he said, raising his brows. "I'm flattered."

You shook your head. "You know what I mean," you said. "I just meant that you're different than how you come off. I didn’t think you'd be so... bold.”

He snorted.

Bold.

If you only knew.

"I guess I'm full of surprises," he said, smirking. You rolled your eyes and punched him lightly in the shoulder, only for him to catch it and press a kiss to the back of your hand. It was something he picked up from a movie once, and it seemed to be a pretty romantic gesture. And by the look on your face, it seemed to be appreciated.

You didn't say anything else. You didn't have to. There was nothing else to say. The two of you simply enjoyed each other's company, content to just be together. The movie might've been a failure, but the night wasn’t.

And when Dexter finally left, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief. Not the type of relief he felt after a successful kill, but the type of relief one feels after a burden is lifted off their shoulders. The type of relief one gets when they are finally honest with themselves.

Rita was gone. Lumen was gone. And although his guilt and shame were still there, his self-loathing and fear were slowly starting to fade away. It wasn't gone, it was never going to be, but it was a start.

A fresh start.

A new beginning.

A new moon.

Yes, tonight was the night that changed everything. Tonight, Dexter Morgan learned that maybe he was more than the monster he thought he was.

[strangenessbooks]

I get what they going for but Owen was a little bitch.

[angelbarelywrites]

♡ slashers scenarios | sharing a bed (part two)

♡ fandoms; Friday the 13th, House of Wax, Black Christmas, Scream (kinda), Hannibal (TV), Dead by Daylight, slashers (general)

♡ characters; Jason Vorhees, Bo Sinclair, Billy Lenz, Danny Johnson, Hannibal Lecter

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡ cw; heavily suggestive content, implied smut, unhealthy power dynamics, references to stalking and kidnapping, violence

♡ notes; still kind of figuring out characterization for Jason and Danny tbh

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

Jason Vorhees

> mama always taught him that sharing a bed with someone was wrong

> it could so easily lead to sinning! and the woods tended to be humid anyway, so it’d get sticky and sweaty

> but Jason likes keeping you close, very close

> the only time he’s not by your side is when he’s “working”

> and even then he’ll check up on you throughout the evening

> one day you get worried, though

> he’s usually back by the time you’re about to go to sleep- he drinks tea with you and usually cuddles for a bit even though he’s convinced staying would be bad

> on this night, the tea is getting cold, and you’re getting grumpy, so you step outside to call for him

> it’s just a moment- a split second that you feel a hand on your shoulder- too small to be Jason

> then there’s a sickening squelch, a scream, and a couple more wet thumps and groans before silence

> you don’t need to turn to know what happened, instead letting Jason come to you (he doesn’t like seeing you sad from his messes- and you don’t like seeing them period)

> he’s got the blood of the man who touched you splattered all over you but you just frown softly “…it’s bedtime.”

> he wordlessly nods and scoops you up quickly, seeming scared that you were somehow hurt

> you quietly reassure him but he gets you the tea and pets your hair until he’s satisfied you’re okay

> you relish in the affection and get an idea

> “Jason baby? can you sleep in my bed? just tonight?”

> you can tell he mulls it over a long while before he nods

> he looks comically large in your bed, holding your teddy bear for you while you change into pajamas

> you let him be the little spoon, wrapping around him happily

> surely something this comfy can’t be wrong, he decides and falls asleep peacefully

> but when he wakes up, holding your soft, barely clothed form tight against him…he realizes he doesn’t care what’s wrong and right when it comes to you

> because you make him want to do all of the things mama said not to - and he just loves making you happy

Bo Sinclair

> you like your personal space- that’s something you made clear when you started living there

> back then you were still a victim, but the point stands

> so once they trusted you you got your own little room and let you decorate

> and you like your arrangement. you have your bed, your boyfriend has his, and you don’t ever sleep in the other’s on purpose

> why would you want to sleep next to Bo anyways? he snores, he’s always splayed out in weird positions and he sweats like a motherfucker

> maybe it had to do with the way you can always hear him screaming when he wakes up in the middle of the night.

> or how it stings whenever he leaves after you fuck, even though you never really ask him to stay

> okay, fuck it. you love the idiot and you want to sleep next to him.

> that shouldn’t be too hard to say

> except it is, because your stubbornness is almost as legendary as Bo’s

> you’re still actively putting it off when you manage to sprain your ankle in the house

> after thanking Vincent for patching you up, you spend the afternoon in the living room, sulking as you wait for Bo

> you know it’s not his fault you slipped, but you’re irrationally mad at him and getting worse the later that he is

> you can tell Vincent got to him first because he’s already frowning when he walks in to the living room close to midnight

> “what happened to you, little darlin?”

> your anger immediately melts away and you give a pathetic little pout as he hugs you tight, cursing for not checking in

> he babies you throughly and eventually takes you to your room

> he’s giving you a goodnight kiss when you grab his sleeve

> “…stay?”

> he can’t hide his smug smile

> “…you want me to?”

> you grumble but he’s happy to strip to his boxers, whistling

> “what’re you so smug for?”

> “you finally asked me to stay.”

> “…well duh.”

> he falls asleep with your whole body laid on top of him, hand lazily stroking your hair

> for once he doesn’t have any night terrors, and he’s grateful

> so grateful in fact, he’d like to repay you..

Billy Lenz

> you don’t love the idea of billy spending the night

> it’s not that you don’t love him, or being around him. he’s your boyfriend, of course you like his company

> it’s just that the sorority girls don’t have the greatest track record of giving you privacy

> they don’t cross boundaries, or enter without knocking- you lock the door anyways

> but they like you enough that usually they’re knocking on your door by eight, inviting you on a shopping trip or to breakfast or even asking for help studying

> it can be stifling, but it’s sweet, and it’s not like they’ll know you have a guest. they’d be more courteous if you could tell them

> and there’s the second reason, the one you can’t tell Billy

> you know the walls are paper thin, and you know just as well he’d take that as a challenge

> but it’s spring break, and only a couple of students are still about

> so you quite casually ask him if he’d like to stay the night

> you’ve never seen this man smile wider in your entire time with him

> and he’s surprisingly PG as you make plans

> he’s excited to eat popcorn and get his nails done and cuddle - you paint his hails black and get the snacks ready

> you rent a horror movie for the occasion, and he’s giggling the whole way through it

> he thinks it’s just adorable that you get so scared, hiding your face against him

> “Billy’s pretty baby is so silly- maybe he should distract his baby….-“

> luckily, you’re able to turn being as quiet as possible into a game when you mention how sound carries through the house

> and he’s ecstatic when he gets to stay next to you, tangled in the sheets and clinging to you for dear life

Danny Johnson

> you’ve never been to his place

> he started as a stalker, so it seemed natural he’d just keep going over to your apartment

> and since he’s always busy with the paper, and continuing his current murder spree…

> well most nights you just let him go, and when you don’t you wake up alone

> but on a particularly boring evening you decide to reverse the roles just a bit

> you figured out his address some time ago- and you picked up a thing or two about picking locks from dating Danny

> so it’s not a problem getting into his penthouse and making yourself comfortable

> you make sure to send a vague text that you knew he’d be able to figure out

> after all actually being sneaky around Danny was probably dangerous- you’re about the only person he wouldn’t stab on site

> you can’t help your huge grin when he stalks into his bedroom

> he’s acting pissy but you see the way his eyes survey your nearly bare body

> “You little brat…”

> he’s the fun kind of angry

> after a through lesson in asking permission you shower and collapse into bed together

> you cuddle close and fall asleep in his arms as he traces all your new bite marks and bruises

> he seems to get the message about staying - when you wake up it’s to him kissing your neck and purring your name

> apparently he didn’t finish last night’s ‘lesson’…and he’s eager to continue

Hannibal Lecter

> he’s eager for you to spend the night, in all honesty

> he likes being in control, utterly and completely

> if he had it his way, you’d move in within the month

> but even though you’ve brought a bag, and are all pj-ed up, he’s distracted

> maybe the one thing that can distract him from you is work- he’s a perfectionist

> and he doesn’t have to prove himself to you like he does clientele and state boards, and practically everyone else

> “y’know you said ten minutes ten minutes ago.”

> “yes my darling- i’ll be there shortly, just- go lay down-“

> you roll your eyes and instead stand behind him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and beginning to kiss his neck

> he tries his damndest to keep focused

> “…if you don’t come soon, i won’t be awake enough to help you…unwind,”

> that gets him up- you 1, work 0

> you’re surprised when after you’ve both gotten nice and relaxed, he pulls you flush

> usually you have to ask for affection

> but he spoons you, face buried in your hair as he dozes off

[batterycityghoul]

So, you can't do a slasher movie as a TV series. Well, think about it. You know, girl and her friends arrive at the dance, the camp, the deserted town, whatever. Killer takes them out one by one. Ninety minutes later, the sun comes up as Survivor Girl's sitting in the back of the ambulance watching her friends' bodies being wheeled past. Slasher movies burn bright and fast. TV needs to stretch things out. You know, by the time the first body's found, it's only a matter of time before the bloodbath commences. -- Noah Foster (Scream the TV Series)

[hipsteralien]

will graham covered in blood will be always famous

[cherry-cola-on-ice]

Hey, i've read a few of your slasher posts and i really like your writing. If you arent able to its perfectly alright but i was wondering if I could get a few slashers with a s/o that can't feel pain and so is unaware when they get hurt. It could be when meeting or having already known eachother. Thank you so much!

Reader out here like:

Michael Myers 🎃 (First Meeting)

He watched from the shadows as you pulled glass from your forearm, without even flinching.

If anything, the annoyed expression on your face was amusing to him. He'd seen many things in his life, but this was new.

For a moment he forgot why he was stalking you through the decaying house of his childhood. Instead he continued to watch as you searched for something to cover the wound.

It wasn't until your eyes met his, that emerged, holding a first aid kit in his hand.

Jason Voorhees 🏕 ( Dating)

Good lord, are you trying to give him a heart attack? I mean, he might already be dead, but still!

It was so innocent at first, you truly trying your hardest to keep up with himself during walkies. He's just got dem long ass legs.

Well next thing you know, you're on the ground and you're bleeding. Jason's panicking, you're not. He doesn't understand, he sees bone. Wtf?

Don't try to explain the science to him, he doesn't care. Now he's just worried about you not being able to tell if you're injured.

Hannibal Lecter🩺 (Before Dating)

Fully understand the science behind it. It may or may not be one of the reasons he was interested in you.

However, it wasn't until you nearly chopped a finger off helping him cook and look down and was like "K." that he felt worried.

Even if you're not accident prone, accidents happen. And you, not feeling pain which mean there's not properly connected in parts of brain that receive the pain messages, which means you might potentially-

He's spiraling in that science shit™️

[yanderebrahms]

autism be damned my boy sure can work a grill

[cece693]

You Can't Outrun Fate (Hannibal Lecter x Male! Reader)

This came to me in a dream :) Well, a mix of dream and me seeking out alternative timelines in the Hannibal show. Hope you enjoy.

tags: posessiveness, slight jealousy, heartbreak, sad male reader, misunderstandings, m/n leaves Hannibal, but when does Hannibal allow something of his to escape his control, kidnapping

Hannibal Lecter was a drug, a highly addictive one at that. His charm, words, and actions ensnared you in his web until it was too late. This drug left you with nothing and no one, except him. M/N knew this all too well; he could hardly remember his old life before the murderer waltzed in and deemed him worthy of seeing past his multiple facades and joining his side. It had been years since that day, and M/N didn’t regret it. Like a blooming rose, M/N eagerly soaked up any attention Hannibal gave him. But nothing good lasts forever.

Hannibal was a man who thrived on adrenaline and enjoyed being challenged. What better challenge than finding Will Graham, a man harboring darkness which he tried hard to mask behind this front of normality? For the first time since M/N, someone had forced their way into Hannibal’s mind palace and made a home there.

M/N had known since the beginning of their relationship that it wouldn’t be long before Hannibal grew bored of him. Hannibal detested routine more than he detested rudeness—being chained to M/N without the ability to indulge in others was unbearable for him. M/N was foolish to think he would be enough to satiate the monster within Hannibal. Will Graham became the perfect canvas for Hannibal to mold into his equal, leaving M/N in the dust.

It began innocently enough with Hannibal bringing the detective into their conversations, making off-handed comments about Will’s unique gift. His fascination grew, and soon enough, Hannibal was deserting M/N at their home without a note or message, prioritizing Will’s 7:30 pm sessions.

At first, M/N tried to rationalize it. He told himself it was fine to see Hannibal off, knowing he would return soon. But then those therapy sessions started blending into real life, with Hannibal spending more and more time trailing behind Will like a shadow. 

M/N knew it was over. He had been replaced. Hannibal's absence became more frequent, his excuses more transparent. Their relationship took a toll with both men unable to stand within the same room, their love replaced by a cold void. M/N felt a complex mix of emotions—pain, jealousy, and a deep sense of loss. He couldn't bring himself to hate Will. 

If he weren’t so hopelessly in love with Hannibal, M/N might have pursued the detective too—he was interesting and handsome, a combination so rarely found in one person. In another universe, under different circumstances, perhaps they could have been friends, or even more. But in this life, Will was the catalyst for his heartbreak, the new obsession that had stolen Hannibal’s affection. 

M/N and Hannibal had been avoiding the inevitable, so one day when M/N knew Hannibal would be busy, he packed his bags and took off. It was a hard decision but M/N knew it was the correct one. It wasn’t as if the murderer would miss him, the past weeks spent in solitude was enough to tell M/N he wasn’t needed. Perhaps Hannibal was already organizing a dinner party to celebrate his departure, aiming to introduce Will into his life. He had overstayed his welcome. 

The initial months were challenging; detoxing from Hannibal was painful. Everywhere he looked, M/N couldn’t help but think of the man. Hannibal’s presence was ever-permanent in M/N's life, an inescapable shadow haunting his every step. The familiar scents, the echoes of their conversations, the ghost of Hannibal’s touch—everything served as a cruel reminder of what he had lost. M/N found himself drifting through each day in a haze, battling the overwhelming urge to return, to feel that addictive rush once more. But he owed Hannibal at least that much, a chance to restart with the partner of his dreams. 

And when memories became too much to bear, M/N would depart once more. America, Britain, Ireland, Spain. Beautiful sights but it didn’t ease his emptiness. He’d even begun to bring partners to bed, hoping they’ll become his new addiction, but nothing. Perhaps this was M/N’s punishment: unable to move on and inevitably tied to Hannibal forever. Or perhaps this was fate. 

Fate. 

Such a funny thing—luck, destiny, karma, however you wanted to call it. Almost a year had passed since M/N left America when news reached him about the death of Will Graham. The incident was attributed to the Chesapeake Ripper, a detective who had been too close to uncovering the killer’s identity. The revelation left M/N shocked and unsettled. If it was Hannibal who disposed of Will and not a copycat, the question lingered: Why? What had driven Hannibal to eliminate someone he had once found so intriguing, someone whom he viewed as an equal? 

Rushing to his apartment, M/N locked the door behind him. If Hannibal had killed Will, what guaranteed M/N he wouldn’t kill him next? Panic surged through him as he leaned against the door, trying to catch his breath. His mind raced with thoughts of escape, but it was already too late. His nose wasn’t quick enough to detect the familiar scent of cologne before strong arms seized him and spun him around.

M/N froze, the blood draining from his face as he found himself face to face with Hannibal. But this wasn’t the man whom M/N remembered—his hair was longer and unstyled, falling into his eyes, and his clothing consisted of a simple black jacket and slacks rather than his usual three-piece suit.

"Hannibal." M/N managed to gasp, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and disbelief.

Hannibal's eyes bore into him. There was a wildness in his gaze, a hint of the unrestrained fury simmering beneath the surface. He looked like a man who had been through hell and emerged on the other side, more dangerous and unpredictable than ever. He still commanded attention, but now there was a dangerous demeanor he wore, as if he was on the verge of being Hannibal and whatever monster he’d tucked away.

“M/N.” Hannibal whispered back, his voice deceptively calm. “I didn’t think you would be so foolish as to run from me.” The back of his hand grazed his cheek when it harshly gripped his chin, forcing their eyes to lock. M/N couldn’t look away nor did he want to. Hannibal’s eyes were a tempest of emotions—anger, betrayal, hurt, but above all, love.

"I...I had to leave," M/N reasoned, his voice coming out steady despite the churning inside his stomach. “You know why.” All he received was a cold, hard glare from Hannibal. 

"Do I?" he said softly, his tone laced with a dangerous edge. "You left without a word, abandoning everything we had built together.” Hannibal took a step closer, his presence overwhelming. M/N could feel Hannibal’s warmth, and a part of him wanted to close the distance, but fear paralyzed him. "When you left, everything lost its meaning. Life became a dreary monotone."

“You made that choice.” M/N couldn’t help but hiss, not being able to contain his anger and sadness. “You paraded Will like some sort of prize, leaving me in the dust. How do you think I felt when the man I loved began to seek someone else?” Pushing Hannibal away, M/N remained standing, wanting to get everything off his shoulders. “You were the one who abandoned whatever we’ve built, not me.”

Hannibal’s expression softened. “I never meant to hurt you, M/N.” he said, his voice tinged with regret. “Will was a distraction, a fleeting curiosity. But you...you are irreplaceable.”

M/N scoffed at the man’s words. “It’s been a year, Hannibal. If I’m really irreplaceable as you claim, why didn’t you come sooner? You’re just now seeking me out after Will’s gone from the picture. Admit it, you want your play thing back.”

“You’re nothing of the sort, M/N.”

“Shut up!” M/N barked, his voice filled with desperation. “Just leave me alone, Hannibal. Go.” But his words fell on deaf ears. Cornered against the wall, M/N struggled as Hannibal grabbed his body and pressed a towel against the bottom of his face. Chloroform. 

M/N fought against the overwhelming dizziness that crept over him, his limbs growing heavy as the world began to blur. He could feel Hannibal’s fingers gently running through the back of his head, a gesture that was both tender and chilling. Hannibal spoke the final words M/N would hear before darkness enveloped him. “I’m sorry, but I can’t lose you again.”

[aaronsinferno]

The hate Lou gets online isn’t going anywhere. They’re not going to stop or take it easy on him in anyway. They’ve never given any of the actresses who’ve played love interest to Buck a chance and it’s going to probably be worse for Lou. Only because they see him as an actual threat now.

They’re disgruntled. They spent years rewriting narratives and bullying in order to make one thing happen and their reward is still nowhere in sight. And while I think it’s well deserved, Lou doesn’t deserve to get any portion of that backlash.

Which is why I think it’s cool that we’re all here. How a random relationship that no one saw coming could inspire a community of sorts. They’re only where they are now because a character showed up on screen one day and they took a liking to him. We’re here because of a kiss. The kiss. The thing that kick started a relationship that we genuinely want to see grow. Because they fit.

So please don’t let them bully you out of wanting to see how things play out for BuckTommy and just enjoy yourselves. Don’t let them make you or Lou feel unwelcome.

Have fun. Write. Make edits. Hyperfixate. Be weird.

But also, just be kind guys. Show kindness to each other and to Lou 🫶🏾

[fabledenigmaeragif]

Gabriel Darku

In the Source Link, you will find a complete gif pack of Gabriel Darku in Slasher: Ripper. Gabriel played the role of Detective Kenneth Rijkers.

Detective Kenneth Rijkers, a young detective trying to solve a series of gruesome murders. He ends up forming a relationship with the wife of the first victim. Gabriel previously appeared on Slasher: Solstice (Season Three) as Connor Rijkers, revealed to be a descendant of his Slasher character. This pack contains episodes 1 - 5, a work in progress. Episode 1 is finished *Contains spoilers and scenes of brutal horror.

Source - FabledEnigma